My brother reached for my mother’s hand and then they walked up the driveway and then he let go of her hand. And she wrote in the story, “sometimes your children will hold your hand for perhaps the last time and you have to have enough common sense and grace to let them let go and then use that hand to wave them on.” That little quote of hers is such a gift for grievers too because we do also need that courage and grace to let go and wave them on. It's so hard. It's the hardest thing.

So, now I’ve been through two pregnancies after loss. I get the anxiety. I get the fear. But I also know that grief and joy go hand-in-hand. That there is hope after loss. I know that the love we have for our babies is stronger than the fear of losing them. And I know that time softens grief, but it will never erase it. 

Shane’s death, at home surrounded by his family with his favorite music playing in the background, energized Sheila to bring change to the way that death is approached in our culture. She saw how sacred the process of dying is, that those who are dying and the people close to them deserve the space to honor death in ways that are meaningful to them. After doing some research about how she could help to contribute to a more holistic view of death, she decided to become a death doula.

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.

This End-of-Life Practitioner training (death doula training) is an in-depth training and takes place over the course of 12 months both online and in person. Students explore the physical, emotional, and spiritual dimensions of death and dying.

Lori is a born helper, listener, and encourager. After supporting families at the beginning of life as a nanny, Lori realized that she could use the same skills at the end of life. After all, there are a lot of similarities.

The statistics for black and brown birthing people are terrible. In Tennessee black people are 69% more likely to die than white people. It’s heartbreaking and maddening and dire. I asked Kaila, “Why? What can we do?”

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.

When Taja Iglesias, a young BIPOC girl with a Spanish last name, gave birth in southern Florida over a decade ago, she had no idea that her experience would inspire her to create a doula agency that would support families in the U.S. and beyond.

I experienced a very traumatic birth with my first child that caused physical injuries to both of us, as well as postpartum depression and the inability to breastfeed. My family doctor, who had been at my first birth and knew what I wanted to avoid, suggested a doula.

When his grandfather passed away, Marquis Allen flew in from out of town to pay his respects and be with his family during a delicate and sad time. After some reflection and research, Marquis learned about the existence of death doulas, trained professionals who assist families in taking care of the end of life planning.

Doulas support all kinds of people and all kinds of births, without judgement. If every mother felt heard and supported in her birth, just imagine the potential impact on maternal physical and mental health worldwide.