Fayola k J Fraser
A birth doula is a trained, non-medical companion who assists a woman before, during, and after childbirth. Generally, people associate the term “doula” with these professionals, who have been used for centuries to support women during pregnancy, labour, and active birth. However, they are not the only doulas doing important work. An “end-of-life doula” or “death doula,” not as commonly known as birth doulas, are trained professionals who act as grief companions, assisting people before, during, and after a death, providing emotional and physical support.
Barbara King and Melanie Melissa Dore (Mel), are two death doulas who, among other things, act as a support system for women who suffer pregnancy loss or women who have lost infants and children.
On Mother’s Day, the celebration of life and the legacies of motherhood come naturally, but it is also important to uplift and support mothers who have lost children.
Dore stumbled on an account on social media during the COVID-19 pandemic, featuring a creator named “The Death Empath”, and although initially she did not feel ready to delve into the sometimes heavy subject matter, she had personally experienced many deaths of relatives and friends, even taking care of her father until his passing in 2019.
Thus, the idea stuck with her. “Over the next two years, the signs kept getting louder, until I found myself researching death doulas and was so surprised to find schools all over the world teaching how to do this work.” Eventually, she enrolled in the International End of Life Doula Association and pursued her training to become a death doula.
King, originally a child educator and parent educator, and a founding member of ParentingTT, first heard the term “death doula” in a conversation with friends, and felt immediately drawn to it. Contending with the illness and potential loss of her own mother, she realised that she had no idea how to deal with the process of death, and when her mother made a full recovery, they sat together and began to put things in place for the inevitable future. She, like Dore, discovered the International End of Life Doula Association during the pandemic, did virtual training, and began volunteering at an institution for the terminally ill.
The two met through Dr Karen Cox, head of the Palliative Care Unit at Caura Hospital, after completing their doula training, and both realised through conversation with each other that the first step to putting their training and education into practice was to find a way to normalise speaking about death in our culture.
The birth of Death Cafe in T&T is an extension to the death cafes that exist in more than 60 countries, and according to King, although “death is a bad word and a taboo subject, it is our only guarantee in life. Because we find it uncomfortable to talk about death, we don’t plan for it,” he said
“Parents don’t think about and plan for what should happen to their young children if they die suddenly. We don’t talk about what we want to happen with our bodies when we die, so families end up in disputes about funerals. What Mel and I are trying to do is bring greater awareness and ease to the idea of death.”
At present, the Death Cafe has more than 100 members and is not a grim space but a lively meeting place for people to heal, express their fears, listen, and learn.
Dore and King also function to support women through miscarriage/pregnancy loss, and sudden infant loss. According to Dore, “this type of grief is very specific, and requires support from medical professionals as well as doulas, and takes a team of people and family in that healing process.”
She described the grief that mothers feel as sacrosanct because children were formed inside of women’s bodies. King, who had a personal experience with her own first pregnancy being spontaneously aborted, recalled being an emotional mess, unable to talk or engage with people around her.
Remembering a friend who came to pick her up and simply spent time with her, letting her cry, she felt soothed and comforted by the simplicity and act of care.
In her professional opinion, she suggests to the family and friends of the mother “simply deep listening, meaning hearing them out and listening with the eyes to observe and anticipate their needs. Don’t give advice. Speak a little, listen a lot, and don’t judge. Don’t expect or rush them to “get over it.”
There is also value in creating rituals and tasks that acknowledge the loss, celebrate the life, and keep the child’s existence alive through pleasant memories.
For the woman herself, who has lost a child, there is no easy route to healing. According to the World Health Organization, nearly two million babies worldwide are stillborn. Each year, there are about 3,400 sudden unexpected infant deaths in the United States. These deaths occur among infants less than one year old and have no immediately obvious cause.
In T&T, the recent sudden deaths of babies in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit have shaken mothers and families, creating a deep well of grief in their lives.
Dore suggested that “there is no simple advice to give with this type of loss, but the one thing I would say is to allow yourself to feel it completely.”
King points to Mamatoto Resource and Birth Centre, which has a support group for people who have experienced this type of loss, as “being with others who have had a similar experience can be very healing. It helps to put things in perspective, validate your feelings and reduce isolation.”
Whether you’re a mom in mourning for a child or a woman coping with a miscarriage it can be very difficult. Death doulas Dore and King encourage those women who have lost so deeply to lean on their village at this time, reach out to professionals, and ask for help where it is needed. As for us all, there is an important lesson in holding space for women during this time.