How to Choose a Doula

How to Choose a Doula

Your due date is approaching, and you’ve done ALL of the research on pregnancy and labor. Your partner will be with you in the delivery room, but you’re wondering if you might need more support; for both of you. A doula is a great option to prep you for your trial of labor, delivery room support, and postpartum assistance. How do you choose a doula? You keep reading this blog post, that’s how!!!

Choosing a Doula

Check Out DONA

DONA International is the organization for doulas. DONA provides training and certification for doulas across the globe, including birth doulas and postpartum doulas. If you want a doula that is worth her salt, she will have a DONA certification (or will be working towards it). This should be the first website you visit when you begin your search for a doula. Not only are you able to search for DONA certified doulas in your area on this site, you can also learn EVERYTHING there is to know about what a doula does, how she does it, and what to look for when hiring a doula.

Other resources you can look into include (this is where I found my doula!). Local hospitals and birth centers might also have a few doulas on tap that with which they have a good rapport. Also, don’t forget to check out natural food stores and yoga studios. Many of these co-op style, holistic based businesses have connections to doulas.

Schedule an Interview

Once you’ve conducted a good amount of research, it’s time to find a few doulas and schedule some interviews! Yay! Exciting! Try to connect with 2 or 3 doulas to interview. Trust me, you may not think so now, but once you get into that birthing room, you’re going to be pretty picky about who you do and do not want in there with you. Interviewing more than one doula helps you to make sure you choose the right person for your birthing experience.

It’s okay if you don’t know how to interview for a doula. DONA has a great interview script you can follow on their How to Hire a Doula page. I used this hiring guide for my doula interviews, and it helped tremendously with making sure the doula we hired was the right one.

I conducted my interviews over the phone and in person. We decided to meet at a coffee shop for our in-person interviews. The neutral location helped keep things professional, and we were able to get some pastries and coffee. Which is awesome regardless of whether or not you are pregnant.

Things to keep in mind when you’re interviewing:

  1. This woman will see you naked. And not just naked. She will see all of your bid-ness. All of it.
  2. Remember that she will be there as a support person, and unless she’s also a nurse or a midwife she will not be able to provide medical assistance in the form of communicating your wishes to your care team, or by any physical exams or interventions.
  3. Hiring a doula is an investment, and she will work her butt off for you. Believe me. Doula’s are worth their weight in gold and she will be worth every single penny of your investment. But her fee’s shouldn’t break your bank. If hiring her is going to put a serious ding in your budget, make sure to weigh the pros and cons of having a doula and not having one. And if a doula is a must have, but her fees are looking a little out of your budget, talk to her about your options. Many doulas are very reasonable and receptive to your family’s needs, and may be able to work out a payment plan.

Final Thoughts

After your interviews, you will have to decide who to hire. The best advice I can give you? Go with your gut. Trust your instinct on which person is going to be the best doula for you. If the person you are leaning towards has only attended one birth, and is currently working towards her DONA certification, that’s perfectly okay. Inexperience does not equal unqualified.

The doula we hired was amazing, and she was working towards her certification and had only attended one birth prior to mine (minus her own births). And I was totally fine with her not being officially certified. She had the training. She had the experience of her own births. And she had a personality that just clicked with mine and my husbands.

Plus, I knew that working with her meant that she was one step closer to gaining her DONA certification, which would allow her to continue working with other women who want to hire amazing doulas like her. Which made me feel pretty good.

Lastly, remember that this is your birth experience and yours alone. Don’t let anyone try to deter you from hiring a doula because it’s a luxury or an unnecessary expense. Like I said earlier, doulas are worth their weight in gold and I honestly can’t imagine what my labor would have been like without mine. Hubby agrees, and also couldn’t imagine going through my labor without her (if you want to read about my labor, check out our story here!).

Long story short, treat yo’self and get a doula, mama. You won’t regret it.

As the founder of Mama Brilliance, Megan is an avid writer, reader, and self-professed coffee snob. You can find her in northern Minnesota with her family, exploring the great outdoors and dreaming of breakfast food.

Our Birth Story

Our Birth Story

My sweetest son,

This is the story of your birth. I’m recording it for us, so that we can always remember the miracle that happened on September 8, 2017.

Our Birth Story Mama Brilliance

Your due date had come and gone, and you were still nestled snugly inside me. Friends and family would text or email, “Is that baby here yet?” “Are you still pregnant?” “Didn’t you tell that kid it’s Labor Day?”

I would respond as cordially as I could, despite the annoyance I felt at their light-hearted jests. Believe me, you will know he’s here shortly after we will, I thought to myself. And so Daddy and I continued to wait for you. We filled our time watching movies, catching up on television shows, walking the trails at the local park. I even counted my stretch marks. 63 crimson stripes across my belly; a permanent reminder of your temporary home.

At 40 weeks and 5 days, my obstetrician offered to strip my membranes. I had been 90% effaced for about 2 weeks, and dilating a centimeter a week for 3 weeks, putting me at 5cm dilated before active labor started. Warm up contractions would come and go for hours at a time, usually between 2 and 3 o’clock in the morning. I was ready to meet you. I was ready for the anticipation to be gone, and to finally hold you in my arms.

I graciously accepted the offer from my OB, and braced for impact as she separated the bag of waters from the sides of my uterus. Daddy held my hand, and when the doctor was finished, we agreed that if labor hadn’t started by the weekend, we would induce in 3 days, on Sunday September 10, 2017.

After stopping for an early dinner, we arrived at home around 4PM. I started to feel more cramping, and the contractions began to arrive. I wonder if this is just more warm-up labor, I thought to myself, as ate my sandwich from Jimmy Johns. An Italian Night Club, with no onions; never once feeling guilty for eating lunch meat while pregnant.

Then it happened: a tightening of my belly that grew stronger as it took my breath away. And it happened again. And again. And again.

After 5 hours of deep breathing, rocking on a balance ball, and loading up on cashews, string cheese, and oven roasted turkey breast, we decided it was time to call the hospital. My contractions were consistently 3 minutes apart, lasting a little more than a minute each, and getting stronger with every wave. The nurse who answered the phone agreed that it was time to come in, and Daddy and I gathered the last of our hospital bag items and prepared to head out the door.

The books and the birthing classes all talk about the excitement and joy you feel when you go into labor. I did not feel this way. I was anxious. I felt unprepared. Despite reading dozens on pregnancy, labor and delivery, and newborn care, I felt completely unprepared. In a last ditch effort to maintain some control over the situation, I decided to brush and floss my teeth.

Your Dad walked into the bathroom and asked me what I was doing. I tearfully replied that I didn’t know when I would get another chance to floss my teeth; as if this would be the last time I would EVER have the pleasure of flossing. Daddy replied that he would bring dental floss for me, and that I would, in fact, be able to floss again after you made your grand debut.

After my dramatic farewell to floss, we departed for the hospital at 9:30PM on September 7. I began to cry out of insecurity, and also because my contractions had stopped.

“They’re going to send us home and I’m going to be embarrassed and Sarah (our doula) will have to drive all the way back to Wisconsin just to come back again another day for actual labor to start.”

“That’s not going to happen,” your father reassured me, “We’re going to get to the hospital, you’re going to be admitted, and we’re going to have a baby and everything will be perfect. Okay?”

I nodded as I held back tears and breathed through my anxiety.

We arrived at St. Mary’s Medical Center in Duluth and parked in the Red Ramp. We walked to the skywalk, only to find that the entrance was locked. I cried again, “I forgot we have to enter through the Emergency Room after 8PM.”

Thankfully, a nurse who was entering the hospital saw my gigantic pregnant self and your father with a suitcase and a backpack, and correctly assumed that we were headed to the birth center. She let us enter with her, and wished us luck.

As we rode the elevator to the 5th floor of the hospital, I felt a small contraction. I felt somewhat more confident in being admitted after that contraction, but there was a part of me that still thought we would be sent home.

The nurses admitted us, and our first nurse Theresa brought us to our birthing room. Ironically, it was the same room we toured during the birthing class; a lakeside room with a hookup for nitrous oxide for pain management and a whirlpool tub for laboring in. Reality started to set in.

I’m going to have a baby.

Theresa took my vitals and hooked me up to a monitor to check on your heart rate and measure the frequency of my contractions. Your heart rate was beautiful, and the contractions were still happening, even though I couldn’t really feel them.

The resident on-call came in to take a quick history and to check my cervix. I was between 95-100% effaced and 6 cm dilated. He asked about my preferences for pain management. I requested that I would be able to labor in the tub and to use nitrous oxide if I needed it. I also mentioned that I’m open to an epidural if I feel it becomes necessary.

He nodded in agreement and basically said that he would be leaving me alone until I needed either the nitrous or the epidural, and that if everything was going well he would be back in a few hours to check my cervix again. He didn’t seem concerned that I wasn’t feeling the contractions anymore, since he could see them on the monitor, and they were definitely happening.

After he left, Theresa took the monitors off and suggested Daddy and I walk around the birthing center floor to help restart some stronger contractions. So we walked around the floor twice, and I had begun to feel more pressure in my pelvis. I could still walk, but it was getting harder to breath through the contractions while I was upright.

We arrived back at the room and Sarah, our doula, had arrived. My contractions were in a lull again, and so we made small talk and just hung out for about 30 minutes. It was now just before 11 PM, and our nurses were changing shifts. Theresa would be leaving for the night, and Taylor would be taking over.

Shortly after Taylor had taken another set of vitals, my contractions really picked up. The first few were so strong that I had to get down on all fours to relieve the pressure in my back and belly. Like the Jedi before me, I remembered my training: breath deeply, inhale to the count of 4, exhale to the count of 6 or 8. And groan like a freaking wildebeest. Deep, guttural moans that put to shame any sort of hoofed, quadruped animal in the throes of heat (i.e. elk, moose, yak, llama).

I requested, with my last shred of amity, that Taylor bring a birthing ball to the room. I tried to sit on the birthing ball, but you were putting so much pressure on my cervix that I couldn’t stand the weight. I tried to kneel on the ground over the birthing ball, hugging the giant purple sphere so tightly I was sure it would burst. I lamented that I did not bring my yoga mat to kneel on, as hospital floors are not known for being easy on the knees. We tried a pillow under my knees, with no relief.

Sarah used counter pressure on my hips and back to relieve some of the pressure, reminding me with every contraction to keep breathing, groaning, and remember that each contraction is temporary and productive. “He’s coming, Mama. You get to meet him soon.”

I’ll be honest. Through the hardest part of my contractions, there was a part of me that wondered what I had done to myself. Why did I do this? What kind of sick, sadistic person would intentionally put themselves through this pain?

I need a time machine, so I can go back and tell myself to not get pregnant because labor is AWFUL and it never ends.

“I need the nitrous,” I managed to say.

“Okay. I hear you. Do you want to try a warm bath first?” Sarah asked.

“Yes,” I nodded through another contraction.

We filled the tub, and I stripped down to nearly nothing. Not caring that I was naked from the chest down, I eased down into the tub. The water felt wonderful. But the tub was not nearly big enough for me to labor the way I needed to AND get the full benefit of the water. I tried to lay back and let the jets massage my back. I tried to kneel on all fours. I even tried sitting cross-legged. Nothing was helping. All the while I swayed and rocked and breathed out every wave of pain that shot through my body.

“Sarah, I need the nitrous.”

“Okay, we’ll get the nurse.”

I stood up to get out of the bath, and noticed 10 scarlet streaks gracing the bottom of the tub. Through an especially intense contraction, my Sally Hansen Cinna-Snap toenail polish tagged the tub like a juvenile delinquent with a can of Rustoleum and a pension for defacement.

This is why you put a top-coat on, Megan. Because otherwise you ruin nice things.

Daddy flagged Taylor, and she went to notify the resident on-call. He came in with some papers for me to sign, and began to go over the rules for using the nitrous for pain management. He checked my cervix again; now at 7 cm. Just as Taylor walked in with the machine for the nitrous oxide, another contraction hit me like a freight train. I knew that laughing gas wouldn’t help me at this point.

The resident began to go over the waiver with me, to which I replied, “F**k the nitrous, I need the epidural.” Your Mama was not messing around. I was almost fainting with every contraction, and I needed something stronger to get me through those last 3 cm. The resident responded with an, “Okey dokey,” and Taylor took the nitrous out of the room and went to call the anesthesiologist.

Taylor put the monitors back on my belly to monitor your heart rate and my contractions, and gave me an IV of fluids to keep me hydrated. The contractions kept growing stronger as we waited about 40 minutes for the anesthesiologist to arrive. When he did, he demonstrated the most perfect example of mansplaining I have ever seen.

This joker sits down on the bed next to me while I’m groaning like a cow, and proceeds to play Pictionary with me to explain how an epidural works.

“Hi Megan, okay, I’m going to draw you a picture here so you know what I’m doing alrighty? This is your brain. This is your spine. This is your brain stem and your spinal cord. Here is your uterus,” etc.

He proceeded to go through a freaking anatomy lesson, drawing every part on his notebook, all the while I’m thinking that I’m a married, 27-year-old, college educated woman. I’ve read the books. I took the class. I KNOW what an epidural does and how it does it. Place the GD catheter and GTFO of here.

And yes, I know that he has to explain what he’s doing for legal purposes so that I don’t sue him incase something goes wrong. His know-it-all attitude was simply not appreciated while I was hitting a 14 out of 10 on the pain scale.

The epidural took about 20 minutes to fully kick in. And even then, it barely took the edge off. I still felt every contraction, and I still needed to breath and groan through every wave that hit me. The contractions were about 2 minutes long at this point, and I thought I would be in labor for ever. I only had about 30 seconds of rest between each contraction, and I needed every single break I could get.

After you were born, Daddy told me that the monitor that was watching my contractions would sometimes go off of the scale. I couldn’t believe how much I felt them even after the epidural. Labor continued like this from 2 AM until about 6 AM on September 8. The resident checked my cervix at about 4 AM; 9 cm. Around 6 AM I entered a slight rest period. The contractions had just about stopped, and I could actually talk and communicate like a human again. The three of us, your Dad, Sarah, and I all slept until 8:30 AM.

Our daytime nurse, Debbie, came to check on me at 8:30. She noted that I had been laying on my left side for a few hours, and was worried that the epidural would have settled on that side; leaving my right side completely open to pain. I assured here that it was not the case, and that my right side was actually completely numb, and my left was the one that needed a little extra assistance.

She acknowledged what I told her, and asked me to roll over on my back so she could check my cervix to see if I had dilated any further. With Daddy and Sarah’s help, I rolled onto my back for yet another cervical exam.

“Oh! Oh, yep. I see your baby’s head. He’s got a lot of hair. Okay, it’s go time.”

“Mkay, great,” I said, trying to roll over onto my right side so I could keep sleeping.

“No, no honey, you’re having a baby now. You can’t go back to sleep.”

“Oh, okay,” as I rolled to my back.

Debbie left to grab another nurse and the daytime on-call doctor and resident. I don’t remember the name of the resident who was there, but the doctor who delivered you was Dr. Rogotzke. They entered the room all at once, decked out in scrubs and surgical gowns and masks. The doctor raised the table and removed the foot of the bed, and though I was in a daze I heard her ask, “Okay Megan, are you ready to have this baby?”

I must have said yes, because the next thing I knew Debbie was directing Sarah and Daddy how to hold my legs as I pushed. The epidural had completely numbed me, and I couldn’t feel anything as I pushed. Dr. Rogotzke coached me to curl around you as I pushed through the contractions that would bring you into your first breath of life.

Daddy and Sarah held my legs while I pulled against them, held my breath, and pushed. Debbie would count to ten, I would push, and then take a half-a-second break. I had been pushing for about 27 minutes when Dr. Rogotzke said, “Okay, ease up a little bit Megan, you’re starting to tear and we need to slow down.”

I backed off, but you were ready. As your final farewell to your uterine home, you used my ribs as a springboard to burst forth into world. Pushing off of my ribs with one last bone-breaking kick, my waters broke with a fury and you erupted out of me like a phoenix from the flames. The doctor caught you as my stomach deflated and I could hardly believe you were here as I laid my eyes on you for the first time.

“Oh my God, oh my God, you’re here,” I repeated over and over as I wept and shook with pride and love and awe.

“He’s real. Oh my God, he’s actually real,” I said to your dad.

“He is,” Daddy replied, struggling to find the words to capture his awestruck agreement.

The doctor handed you to me and I laid you on my chest and held you as hard as I dared. I looked at your father and I barely eked out, “You’re a dad, Daniel! You’re a dad!”

I will never forget the look on his face as he smiled and shed a few tears and nodded joyfully as he kissed my head and looked at you. In that moment I have never loved him more. Even though the room was full of people, it was like no one else was there. It was just the three of us. Our wait was finally over. You were finally here and you were absolutely perfect. Nothing else mattered. We were all together. Our perfect little family.

You weighed 8lbs 8oz at birth, and measured 21.5” in length. Daddy says you have my eyes, and I say you have his nose. You have the cutest little ears, and that hair! So much hair. I don’t think I will ever get tired of looking at you.

As I write this, I look down at you, sleeping on my chest, and I marvel that you lived inside of me for 10 months. You will wake up soon, and you will probably cry, but I will be here with you, and here for you. We’ll snuggle, and we’ll play, and before I know it, you’ll be walking and talking, then off to college, and you’ll be married with a family of your own.

You will never know how much I love you. How much your Father and I so deeply love you is something we can never truly convey. Just know that we will always be here for you; no matter what.

We’re so blessed that you’re here. We can’t wait to watch you grow. 

As the founder of Mama Brilliance, Megan is an avid writer, reader, and self-professed coffee snob. You can find her in northern Minnesota with her family, exploring the great outdoors and dreaming of breakfast food.

My Preterm Labor Event and What I Learned

My Preterm Labor Event and What I Learned

Preterm labor isn’t something I was expecting. All signs pointed to a pregnancy of 40 weeks or more. For 27 weeks and 6 days I was in a low-risk pregnancy. Then 28 weeks hit, and something changed. I started experiencing bleeding and contractions. I called my doctor, and he told me to come in so they could assess the situation. Sure enough, my body was experiencing preterm labor symptoms, and we needed to slow it down. I was ambulanced to one of the best maternal fetal medicine units in the state, and measures were taken to minimize the contractions, and to get baby ready for birth (just in case he decided to come early).

After 24 hours in the hospital, contractions had stopped thanks to a magnesium sulfate drip and rest. Baby boy did great the entire time, kicking and dancing up a storm all weekend, with zero evidence of fetal stress. The care team was even impressed at how active he was, and how fully developed he was for 28 weeks. At about 40 hours in the hospital, the doctors decided to discharge me, since the baby and I were doing great. Thankfully, I was able to stay pregnant, and baby boy is still a movin’ and a shakin’.

Preterm labor is never something you plan for, but incidentally it happens in about 12% of all pregnancies. Even though I was seemingly low-risk, with virtually no medical or lifestyle risks for premature labor, I experienced an event. What does this tell me? Well… not much actually. Even the doctors weren’t entirely sure why the contractions and the bleeding started. But I learned a lot from this experience, and my hope is that by sharing what I have learned that another mama-to-be will feel more confident and secure in her pregnancy.

My Preterm Labor Event

Amenities Are Secondary to Care

This sounds rather obvious, but there is an important point to make here. When I first found out I was pregnant, I knew that we would be moving at the start of my third trimester. I began to look around at the various hospitals of the locations we could be moving to, and I fell in love with St. Luke’s in Duluth, MN. The hospital recently renovated their maternity floor, and it looks amazing.

It has tubs for birthing in just about every room, and they focus on baby-centered care, meaning that after your baby is born (as long as everything is okay with mom and baby), baby gets to stay in the room with mom and dad. Plus, it actually had decent seating and sleeping areas in each suite for your partner or your family members who would visit or stay with you.

When I saw that setting, I knew that’s where I wanted to deliver. I mean, what more could you want from a delivery experience than to relax like a queen after you’ve given birth?

I’m more clear minded about the whole situation. Yes, amenities are great, especially when you are in recovery. The real work happens during labor and delivery, and a pull out sofa with extra support isn’t going to help keep you calm while you’re pushing.

What you need is an experienced care team who will go the extra mile to make sure you and baby are safe, calm, and healthy. When I was admitted to Yale New Haven’s Maternal Fetal Medicine Unit, I immediately recognized the level of professionalism and concern for my welfare. This team truly wanted to make me as comfortable as possible, and ensured that every single one of my needs were cared for. They explained every procedure to me; what it was, why they do it, and what side effects to watch for.

The care team at Yale New Haven was beyond anything that I could have hoped for in the event of a threatened preterm labor. I didn’t care that I didn’t have a birthing tub or that my birth plan wasn’t finished. I knew I was in good hands, and that this team was going to keep me and my baby safe.

Simplify Everything

The last thing you want when you go into labor is a complicated checklist of all of the things you need to have with you, or items you need to tell the doctors. The more stuff you bring with you (mentally and physically), the more complicated your delivery is going to be.

Listen, I am all for having an empowered birth experience. You should absolutely be able to get what you want when it comes to giving birth to the human you have been carrying. I want that for you. And I want that for me. Simplifying my expectations and minimizing my “requirements” are going to dramatically increase the level of calm I experience when labor actually happens.

Why? Because I won’t have to grapple with the mental load of potentially struggling with my care team to get what I want out of delivery. This is not about what I want. This is about keeping my baby healthy; allowing both of us to recover in the most optimal way possible.

With that being said, I know that there are tons of birth plans and birth strategies out there to choose from. My recommendation is that if you feel that a birth plan is in your best interest, use one. Keep it simple. The last thing you need is to create this highly detailed birth plan that can’t be followed because of an emergency situation that is out of your hands.

Try to keep your birth plan to less than 2 pages. This will not only simplify the process for you, but for your care team as well. It will be easier to keep everyone on the same page when there aren’t a handful of pages to keep track of.

Preparedness Goes a Long Way

An emergency is after all, not something you plan for, but it doesn’t hurt to take extra steps to make sure you’re ready. I had a pretty good idea of what to bring in a hospital bag for labor. Since I was only 28 weeks, I didn’t have one packed. Thankfully, I was able to stay calm and grounded as I evaluated what I really needed in case I did need to stay overnight. Which thankfully, wasn’t a lot. Again, simplification helped a ton here.

I knew that if I was going to be staying overnight, the hospital would have pretty much everything I needed in the realm of clothing, but I also wanted to make sure I had a couple things in case I needed them, i.e. a zip up sweatshirt, deodorant, a brush, contact solution/glasses, and chapstick. Honestly, that was all I needed. I packed a couple pairs of underwear just in case, but the hospital has disposable ones so I just used those for my stay.

What I’m getting at here is that being prepared can help quite a bit when it comes to minimizing the stress of an emergency situation. Not only does physical preparedness help (packing a go-bag), but mental preparedness as well. Researching procedures and terms ahead of time makes a huge difference when it comes to understanding what your care team is talking about.

This is not to say that you should research every single obstetric procedure known to man and know the exact risk factors and all other scary stuff that goes with it. That is is not the point. The point is to educate yourself so that you are equipped with the knowledge to make the best decisions for you and your baby when the time comes.

Read as many pregnancy and labor/delivery books as you can throughout your pregnancy to help prepare you for the changes your body goes through, your baby’s development, and possible procedures you may need in order to keep both you and baby safe and healthy.

Mindfulness & Affirmations Really Work

Throughout the preterm labor event, I was scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I knew that if I stressed myself out unnecessarily, that the stress would only affect my baby to his detriment. My solution was to pray, to be mindful of my mind and my body, and to affirm to myself that whatever happens will happen, and that my baby and I will be safe. These are some of the affirmations I said to myself while I was in the thick of uncertainty.

  • My body knows what to do to keep my baby safe.
  • This event is temporary. This stress will pass.
  • I am confident in myself and the health of my baby.
  • I will keep my baby safe and calm by breathing deeply, and embracing feelings of love and security.

In addition to prayer and strategic breathing exercises, these affirmations helped me to keep my breathing steady, and my mind clear. Yes, I was nervous, and yes, I had fears. But I knew that by repeatedly praying and saying these affirmations that I would ultimately keep myself calm and collected, and be able to make better decisions when necessary.

What I’m Doing Differently

The preterm labor scare taught me a lot of things about myself and what is truly important to me. Because of what I have learned, I’m doing a few things differently than I had planned.

  1. Prepare an emergency bag for my car. Something simple with a change of clothes, a few toiletries, and a couple of snack bars and bottles of water. This bag will be helpful in any emergency, regardless of whether or not I’m pregnant.
  2. Keep a copy of my medical records with me if possible. I want to keep a small record of recent events on my Emergency ID on my phone. That way, if something happens while I’m out and about or alone, whichever hospital I am sent to will have my information and will be able to make more informed decisions about my care. This information will include medications, current medical status (i.e. pregnant), allergies, medical directives for care, etc.
  3. Get a better support system in place. With my husband in the military, there is no telling whether I will be on my own or not. Thankfully, with us moving closer to family, I will have more support options, but this event made me realize that I’m really terrible at making in-person support networks. Online? I’m a freaking pro. But in the real world I’m pretty limited. I’m so thankful for the people who helped us out during the worst of it, seriously you guys are amazing. But I know that having a few more people in the pipeline that can offer assistance is going to ease quite a bit of strain off of my mind.


Thank you for reading my experience with threatened preterm labor. I truly hope that this finds someone where they need it most, and can help them to manage the emotions that go along with this event.

As the founder of Mama Brilliance, Megan is an avid writer, reader, and self-professed coffee snob. You can find her in northern Minnesota with her family, exploring the great outdoors and dreaming of breakfast food.