I have been incredibly fortunate to be steeped in maternal health and early childhood care as my career and my passion. Long before my daughter was a "gleam in my eye", I had the privilege to be informed and empowered about birth and maternal care. And yet, when I went into labor, none of that mattered. I was terrified.  

I gave birth to my daughter during the pandemic, and had meticulously planned for every detail: I had a comprehensive birth plan, I had a spreadsheet for my parental leave, I had carefully selected a Black female OB/GYN. My daughter had her own ideas. I was assigned a doctor at the hospital when I arrived, and he did not read my birthing plan, ask me about my wishes, or follow what I had prepared. I was in labor for 34 hours. For a whole day and more, my body was not my own—it was suspended in an excruciating liminal state.  

I met Ida, my doula, for the first time when I arrived at the hospital. We had spoken over the phone several times but hadn’t met in person due to COVID precautions. I simply cannot imagine surviving those hours without her. Ida was my ally and my advocate in the most vulnerable experience of my life. At hour 30, when the doctor said that “since I was failing to make progress", he would “just go ahead and tee up a C-section,” she safe-guarded my physical and mental health. She kept me sane, stayed with me until my daughter arrived, and made sure we were set up to bond in the best possible ways. Like many mothers, I do not have the right superlatives to describe childbirth, or as my sister described it, “the only time you will meet someone for the first time and fall in love for sure.” Ida's care and support of my well-being allowed me to be fully present in those transcendent first moments with my daughter.

After I took Penelope home, Ida visited us in my home for months. She answered my many, many questions, gave reassurance and helped us find our footing. From cord blood to nursing to postpartum care, the support she gave me was nothing short of incredible and I will be forever grateful. Doulas save lives. Home visitors save lives. It’s not an exaggeration. It is actually an understatement. 

To me, one of the most fascinating things about working in early childhood is how surprised folks are when we share facts about the first three years of life. It sounds like hyperbole. Sadly, it isn’t. Women in Illinois die in childbirth. Women in well-resourced hospitals with many amenities die in childbirth. Women of Color die at about 6x the rate of their peers. Women that are skilled communicators are ignored and discriminated against – too often with fatal consequences.  

Doulas save lives. Home visitors save lives. This National Home Visiting Week, we're excited to be celebrating the providers who work so hard to support families as they welcome a newborn. If you're as passionate about this work as we are, we'd love to have you join us.