Not Your Grandmother’s Doula

Why I show up as the eccentric aunt you didn’t know you needed in the birth room

An aunt and niece Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@lgnwvr?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">LOGAN WEAVER | @LGNWVR</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/woman-wearing-black-blouse-TtmCQskf6xs?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a>

I recently learned about a monthly meetup for maternity professionals—first Saturday of every month—so naturally, I showed up on May Day.

We went around the room introducing ourselves, and since I was first, I proudly said I was a doula. One woman immediately asked, “Does Connie still get calls? She’s retired, but she could refer clients who are looking for someone . . . grandmotherly.”


Grandmotherly?!


Listen, I love a good cardigan as much as the next person—but that’s not quite the vibe I’m bringing.


I prefer to think of myself as the eccentric aunt. You know the one: your parents love her, but they’re also a little concerned about her influence. She’s the one who nudges you to try the thing, question the rules, and maybe—just maybe—rewrite them entirely.


She says the things everyone else is thinking but is too polite (or nervous) to actually say. And somehow, instead of being scandalized, you laugh—because those things are true.


She’s also the one you come to with the heavy stuff. The doubts. The “what if I can’t do this?” moments. She doesn’t fix it for you. She listens. She asks questions that make you pause, think, and find your own answers—because they stick better that way.


She cheers for you when you’re doing something bold and a little bit terrifying. She holds you when you’re heartbroken. And if you start wallowing a little too long? She lovingly gives you a nudge (okay, sometimes a shove) back into motion.


She tells you the hard truths when you need them most—and trusts you to figure the rest out. She’s nearby if things get overwhelming, but she respects your independence enough to let you try.


That’s the doula I strive to be.


The one who adapts moment by moment—because what you need now might not be what you needed five minutes ago, and it might not match the beautifully bullet-pointed birth plan we created together.


The doula who soothes your fears and recognizes when you’re stronger than you think. The one who protects your space, guards your focus, and helps keep interruptions at bay.


Helpful when needed. Comforting when wanted. Honest when it matters.

Not grandmotherly.


Definitely aunt energy.

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