Being a doula is sacred work. We step into the liminal spaces where life begins, where life ends, where vulnerability is raw, where families are transformed. It is heart work. It is body work. It is soul work. But with this depth comes a truth that too many doulas learn the hard way: without strong boundaries, this calling will consume you.

But the dip isn't failure. It’s the pause between breaths. It’s the body whispering that it’s time to tend to yourself with the same care you offer others.

There’s something I wish every person giving birth could hold close:

You don’t need permission to feel safe.

Your needs are not requests. They are wisdom.
They are part of your body’s intelligence — the way your nervous system communicates what helps it regulate, what grounds it, what opens the door to calm.

As doulas, we are invited into the most intimate corners of life: the first breaths, the last goodbyes, and sometimes, the heartbreaking space in between — the one where joy and grief collide in a single breath.

I remember the quiet, too. The moments where the room grew still and prayers filled the space.