Hi, I'm Sabrina.

I came to postpartum doula work the long way around, which is to say: not efficiently, but with data.

I spent over twenty years in IT as a database administrator. I liked it. It made sense. Systems, inputs, outputs, predictable failure modes. Then I had a baby, and suddenly all my elegant internal logic collapsed like a poorly indexed table.

The first two weeks were full of people. My partner was home, family visited, casseroles appeared with reassuring regularity. It felt, briefly, like a supported transition.

Then the casseroles stopped.

By week three, the visits tapered off. By week five, I was alone in my 600‑square‑foot Montréal home at 4pm on a Tuesday, holding a baby, wondering why nobody had explained that this part exists — the part where the help disappears but the recovery, physical and mental, is still very much in progress.

I got through it. Most people do. Humans are inconveniently resilient.

I kept thinking: this would have been easier if one person had shown up. Not to admire the baby or offer contradictory advice, but to fold laundry, hold the baby, and say, with evidence, “You are not doing this wrong.”

That thought did not go away. So I trained as a postpartum doula. And here we are.

Why postpartum, and only postpartum

Birth doulas do extraordinary work. So do midwives, lactation consultants, and perinatal therapists. I am not trying to be all of those things, because that would be chaotic and inefficient.

I focus on postpartum because that’s where the support gap is widest and the system performs worst.

You spend months preparing for labour. Then you get a six‑week checkup and, effectively, a pamphlet. Everything else is improvised by sleep‑deprived people trying to reconcile conflicting advice while recovering from a major physiological event.

Sleep deprivation is a recognized form of torture. Recovery from birth takes longer than most people expect. The mental health risks are real. And almost nobody is funded to be in your home during the first three months, when all of this is happening at once.

Postpartum doula work is hands‑on, unglamorous, and quietly critical. It is also, very clearly, the work I want to be doing.

My training and approach

I trained through a program focused on evidence‑based care, trauma‑informed support, and respecting that you are the expert on your own baby. I am there to support, not override.

My approach is simple and, importantly, repeatable.

I show up. I assess what would make your life easier in that moment. I do the dishes if that is the correct answer. I hold the baby so you can sleep, shower, or eat like a person with dignity. I answer questions when you have them, and I do not insert opinions when you don’t.

I work with nursing and bottle‑feeding parents, first‑time parents and experienced ones who are discovering that this time is somehow harder. I support single parents, partnered parents, and families that do not resemble a brochure.

I use gender‑neutral language because not every parent who gives birth is a woman, and not every nursing parent is a mother. If that matters to you, you will feel safe with me. If it doesn’t, you will still feel safe with me, because the underlying principle is respect.

I am bilingual (English and functional French), and I bring a structured, documented approach to the first year. Not a philosophy. Not a vibe. A system that reduces noise and helps you focus on what actually matters.

Who I work with

Most of the families I support are in their late thirties or early forties. Many are used to having competent systems in place for everything else in their lives, and are surprised to find that postpartum care is… not one of those systems.

Some don’t have family nearby. Some do, but that support doesn’t materialize in the way they expected. Some have been through fertility treatments to get here. Some have older children and forgot how relentless newborn life is. Some are doing this for the first time and are quietly, rationally, alarmed.

What they have in common is this: they want to trust themselves, and they want one steady, nonjudgmental person in their corner who will not take over, will not disappear after week two, and will say something if something looks off.

I’ve worked with families across Montréal — NDG, Westmount, Plateau, TMR, Villeray, and beyond. The details vary. The goal does not: reduce the load, increase the signal, and get you through the difficult days with your sleep, your relationships, and your sense of self reasonably intact.

Outside of doula work

I still work full‑time as a database administrator. I have a toddler. I am raising a child in Montréal with my partner in a small house with too many books and not enough storage, which is a solvable but ongoing problem.

Doula work fits around my life because I do it deliberately, at a pace that lets me show up well for the families I support. No overbooking, no heroic scheduling that collapses under pressure. Just consistent, reliable presence.

If we end up working together, that’s what you’ll get: someone who shows up, pays attention, and does the work that actually needs doing.