On September 2, 2023, I completed my CAPPA Labor Doula Training and took my first official step into the path of birthwork. I didn’t know then just how much this journey would transform me — as a doula, as a mother, as a community worker, and as a woman learning to stand in her own shit and trust her own rhythm.

Now, as I celebrate my two-year anniversary of being trained as a doula, I’m pausing to reflect. Birthwork is not just a service; it’s a calling that has reshaped how I see resilience, healing, and community care.

What I’d Tell the Version of Me Just Starting Out

Looking back, there are so many lessons I would share with the version of myself who was just starting out — cape on, wide-eyed, a little uncertain, but deeply committed. Here are ten of them:

1. Consistency matters more than perfection.

Birthwork isn’t about knowing everything. It’s about showing up, again and again, in love and in presence.  In the beginning, I thought I had to know everything. But the real power is in showing up, again and again, even when I don’t feel “ready.” Presence matters most.

2. Peace is part of the work.

Protecting my peace is essential. Families feel the energy I bring, and calm is one of the greatest tools I can offer.  Birthwork can be intense, but stress doesn’t have to define it. Protecting my peace helps me serve from a place of strength, and it’s just as important as showing up on time or bringing comfort measures.

3. Your sense of self shapes your reality.

When I stay grounded in possibility instead of fear, I become a steadier anchor for the families I serve.  I’ve learned that my mindset affects not only me but also the communities I serve. When I root myself in possibility instead of fear, I create steadier, safer spaces for birth.

4. Movement brings clarity.

I thought I needed more certifications before I was ready. The truth? Walking the path has taught me more than waiting ever could.  Clarity comes from walking the path, not waiting at the starting line.

5. Energy is the first offering.

The tools in my doula bag matter, but the energy I carry into the room matters most.  The energy I bring into a birth space is as important as the tools in my doula bag. If I’m drained, my presence won’t be the steady anchor families need.

6. Mindset is daily work.

Birthwork requires me to recenter, to breathe, to return to my “why” — every single day.  Birthwork requires constant recalibration. I’ve learned to come back to my “why” on the hard days, and to choose hope over fear. That’s what sustains me.

7. We’re not meant to hold it all alone.

Mentors, colleagues, and community have sustained me. Birthwork is collective work.  Doula work is community work. Mentors, elders, and colleagues have been essential to my growth. The support we give each other ripples out into the support we give families.

8. Busy isn’t the same as impactful.

Not everything that fills my calendar fills my spirit or serves families well. Impact matters more than activity.  Filling my days with tasks isn’t the same as serving well. I’ve learned to ask myself: is this building deeper support for families, or just keeping me busy?

9. Rhythm is freedom.

Just like birth itself, my work has a rhythm — effort and rest, expansion and pause.  Waves of contraction, rest, and release. When I honor that, I don’t burn out. The same is true of my work. Honoring cycles and creating flow helps me sustain myself without burning out.

10. Faith is a skill.

Birthwork has taught me to trust — in the body, in the process, in something greater than myself. That trust has carried me through long nights, hard moments, and the unknown.

Two years later, I see clearly: this path isn’t only about helping families bring new life into the world. It’s about helping all of us remember our strength, our connection, and our capacity to heal.

To anyone stepping into this work, I’d say: trust yourself, trust the process, and keep showing up. The journey will shape you as much as you shape it.

Here’s to two years of birthwork — and to many more years of walking with families in love, presence, and faith.