Kelly Carrington A conversation with a doula.
Kelly Carrington A conversation with a doula.
A WOMAN’S WORK?
Because doulas have historically been women, Carrington knows he’s a “bit of a show pony.” To avoid being a novelty hire, he encourages families to also interview other prospective doulas to make sure he’s the right fit. Such conscientiousness extends to every stage of the process, from ensuring that the partner doesn’t feel threatened by his presence, to making adjustments for women concerned about nudity. “I’ve had moms before that were very concerned about their backside being exposed during labor,” he explains. “I said, ‘Okay, no problem, I’ll just follow you around with a blanket.’” Ultimately, though, he finds his gender has less bearing than you’d think: “It’s the intention that’s the most important thing.”
With nearly two decades as a massage therapist under his belt, Kelly Carrington was already well-versed in the human body when, in 2014, he became Canada’s first certified male birth doula. The father of three explains his part in the fast-growing maternity movement.
Doulas seem to be increasingly popular these days. Why?
People are more educated about the birth process now. They want to have control because control feels safer. Sometimes they feel that having a doula will help give their birth a more team approach, rather than just going into the hospital as another patient.
What’s the first thing that happens when you sit down with a pregnant woman?
Most people will come to me at around 20 weeks and then we have two prenatal sessions in which we go through all the things that are in their little “box.” This box is full of fear and anxiety and questions. We unpack that box so that, by the time the baby comes, it’s empty and you can put a baby in it. I’m there for the birth and then we have a plan in place for postpartum care afterward.
How do you establish the sort of bond that means a family trusts you at their most vulnerable moment?
I listen. I understand that it’s an odd situation where they’re inviting a complete stranger into their lives for a very short period of time so we have to become fast friends. I need my clients to feel as comfortable as possible with me—and it’s not just the mom, the partner has to feel comfortable, too. Because when it’s go time, I don’t want me being there to be detrimental to the cause.
Do you experience friction between the hospital environment and your work as a doula?
No, because I’m not there to do their job and I make sure those boundaries don’t get crossed. I’m not a wallflower: I’m a 215-pound black man with dreadlocks. I can’t just blend into the room. But I’m there to support the family, and I try to make my presence as unobtrusive to the medical staff as I can.
Does the role of a doula end at birth?
I’m there to follow the family for as long as they require. My motto has been, “I’m your doula until you tell me otherwise,” so it’s a pretty good deal. I’m your doula for life! If you put this commitment in monetary terms, I don’t make any money. But it’s not about that; it’s about helping people get to the end of this process—especially the labor and delivery and postpartum part—with confidence. It’s about empowering them, however long that takes.
Could the role of doula be applied to other key moments in life, like death?
The most stressful times in your life are most likely to be when you get married, when you have a baby, when you buy a house, and when you’re about to die. When you buy a house, you have a Realtor; when you’re about to get married, some people have a wedding planner. When people call themselves a “bereavement doula,” all they’re really doing is supporting a family through a situation.
A WOMAN’S WORK?
Because doulas have historically been women, Carrington knows he’s a “bit of a show pony.” To avoid being a novelty hire, he encourages families to also interview other prospective doulas to make sure he’s the right fit. Such conscientiousness extends to every stage of the process, from ensuring that the partner doesn’t feel threatened by his presence, to making adjustments for women concerned about nudity. “I’ve had moms before that were very concerned about their backside being exposed during labor,” he explains. “I said, ‘Okay, no problem, I’ll just follow you around with a blanket.’” Ultimately, though, he finds his gender has less bearing than you’d think: “It’s the intention that’s the most important thing.”