How I Came to This Work

— a story about birth, becoming, and why this path chose me

I was invited to be a doula before I even knew what a doula was.

A dear friend asked me to be at their birth, and I said yes—hesitantly, but with a whole lot of willingness and love. I wasn’t sure I was the right person, but I wanted to support them in any way I could. I had read one book. I had no specific training. I didn’t really know what I was doing.

But I showed up—with open hands, an open heart, and the intention to be present.

I’m not sure I was a great doula in those days of birth unfolding—but I did my best. And what I witnessed changed me. The birth was raw and powerful, messy and sacred. It was deeply human and profoundly transformative. 

But that first experience imprinted something in me. It showed me what’s possible when a birthing person is supported, trusted, and held with care.

Around the same time, I was completing my first yoga teacher training. Within a month, I found myself guiding people in breath and movement—and also attending my first birth. These paths—yoga, mindfulness, doula work—weaved together in a way that felt less like a choice and more like a remembering. Something deep inside me said: This is your work.

And so I followed the call.

I trained as a full-spectrum doula. I studied prenatal and postpartum yoga with Shana Celnicker-Chong. I kept learning, listening, deepening—and then I became a parent myself. (Which rewired everything, including my brain.)

Now, my work is shaped by lived experience, fierce compassion, and the belief that birth is a profound rite of passage—one that influences how we step into parenting, how we relate to our bodies, our babies and each other, and how we move through the world.

Over the years, I’ve come to believe that community—real, steady, imperfect community—is one of the most vital and beautiful parts of the childbearing journey. The way we gather around someone in pregnancy and postpartum matters. Being invited to help hold those spaces—to listen, witness, guide, and remind people they don’t have to carry it all alone—feels like one of the great honors of my life.

I do this work because birth matters.
Not just the outcome—but the journey.
Because too often, especially within medical systems that are overburdened and under-resourced, people give birth feeling unseen, disempowered, or confused.
Because preparation and presence can be a radical act of self-love.
Because self-compassion isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity in parenting, and in life.

My hope is that through this work, more people—no matter where or how they birth—can move through this threshold feeling supported, spacious, and connected to their own inner wisdom.

It’s not about doing it “right”— it’s about remembering that birth connects us, to ourselves, to each other, and to something greater.

It’s about knowing you’re held, and that you’re part of a much larger circle of care.