To have an end-of-life doula is to have a partner in the challenge of holding your loved one close.

This poem offers glimpses of encounters witnessed over time with individuals and families navigating death, dying, and the realities of mortality

Michelle addressed Evelyn just as though she would address any other baby, using her name and affectionately calling her “pumpkin” as she helped Vallen to bathe anddress her daughter. 

Imagine a world in which postpartum care is not seen as a luxury, but as a self-evident a necessity; where it is understood that the most valuable thing a new mother can do is feed, love, and bond with her baby, while other people take care of her; where the work of those who care for mothers and babies is valued as much as - or more than - a high income, high status career. 

If you’ve ever walked out of a prenatal appointment feeling unseen, I want you to know something: you’re not alone. You’re not “too much,” and you’re not wrong for wanting more than blood pressure checks and growth charts. You deserve care that sees your whole story.

I deeply believe that there is so much that can be done to help the dying have some peace at the end, and sometimes it can be just stating the obvious- that someone is dying but they are alive until their final breath.

I am here to tell you my origin story: how I chose to become a death doula, and just how much it means to me. My journey to becoming a death doula began in 2017, with the death of my grandfather, whom I called Papa.

For me, the path to becoming a birth worker is deeply intertwined with my own journey of healing, empowerment, and reclaiming sovereignty over my body and wellness.

To me, death is a part of life that we cannot avoid. But what happens at the time of death and afterwards, has always been an unknown.

Before my first baby was born I remember being home on maternity leave and feeling a bit lost, like I didn’t have a purpose…