The Unexpected Doula of Middle-earth

To those who know me well, it will come as no surprise that I love reading and take inspiration from many books I read.

Every once in a while, a story from a completely different world manages to shine a light on ours. For me, that story comes from The Lord of the Rings, an epic about courage, friendship, and the long road home. In this beautifully written book, I have two absolute favourite characters: Eowyn, the shieldmaiden of Rohan and Samewise Gamgee. Amongst the wizards and warriors these two caught my heart. 

Samwise Gamgee is the humble gardener from the Shire who walks beside Frodo through every danger and doubt. Somewhere between the cooking pots and the orcs, I realised: Sam is the truest example of what it means to support. He is, in spirit, the original doula. A companion who shows up with both hands and heart, steady through the hardest journey of all.

This reflection is a small love letter to that kind of care: unseen yet powerful, tender yet fierce. 

Part one belongs to Samwise; part two to those of us who walk beside new parents in their own great adventure.

Part I - Samwise Gamgee: The Quiet Hero of Care

There is a moment in The Lord of the Rings when Frodo cannot take another step. The Ring is too heavy, the mountain too steep, the outcome too uncertain. 

Sam looks at his friend and says: “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you.” This is the line that makes Samwise Gamgee unforgettable. He may not be a dragon slayer, he may not be wielding power, but his fierce devotion makes him an unsung hero.

The story isn’t carried by warriors; it is carried by a gardener with muddy boots and a heart full of loyalty.

Sam doesn’t lead. He doesn’t shine. He watches, listens, and makes sure Frodo is fed and gets opportunity to rest on his impossible journey. He finds a place to rest, reminds him of home, holds hope when the air grows thin. He is steadfast, invisible, essential.

This is why Sam is, truly, the fantasy world’s first doula. His work is slow and quiet, the kind that rarely makes a song or a statue. But it is the work that keeps life moving forward. Without Sam’s steady presence, Frodo’s courage wouldn’t have lasted the climb.

So what makes Samwise Gamgee the perfect doula?

• Invisible strength: Sam never seeks recognition. His care is quiet, but it is what holds everything together, like a doula’s steady, unseen work that makes recovery and confidence possible.
• True continuity of care: From the Shire to Mordor, Sam never leaves Frodo’s side. Doulas offer that same constancy: the familiar presence that bridges the gap between chaos and calm when everything else changes.
• The power of witness: Sam doesn’t fix or take over. He listens, reassures, and holds space for Frodo’s struggle. A doula does the same. She walks beside, not ahead.
• Carrying without rescuing: “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you.” This is doula essence: holding someone when the load feels too heavy, without taking away what is theirs to carry.
• Practical care: Sam is as good with a frying pan as he is with a sword. He makes sure Frodo eats, rests, and keeps his strength and he won't hesitate to strike if Frodo needs protection! The same grounding work doulas do every day.
• Unshakeable belief: Even when Frodo doubts himself, Sam’s faith never wavers. Doulas often hold that quiet belief in a parent’s resilience until they can see it themselves.
• Humility and love: Sam doesn’t serve for glory. He is guided by care, not conquest. A perfect mirror to the doula’s humble, heart-centred work.

Samwise Gamgee doesn’t show up for praise or pride. He believes in Frodo’s strength when Frodo cannot. That is the art of support: standing close enough to catch someone if they fall, but never close enough to take away their choice to rise.

Part II - A Doula’s Reflection: What Samwise Taught Me About Holding Space

When I began my work as a postpartum doula, I never imagined I would learn so much from a hobbit. Yet Samwise has been such an inspiration for me and as I re-read the Lord Of The Rings, I realised how much I could identify with him! (as much as I would prefer to resemble Eowyn or Arwen!)

Those first weeks after birth can feel like a long, hard trek through unfamiliar land. Sleep-deprived, tender, and full of self-doubt, every new parent faces their own Mount Doom.

I can’t take over the responsibility for the Ring, or the baby, or take away the exhaustion. But I can help carry them. I can make sure they eat. I can hold their baby so they can shower. I can listen when they speak through tears, or when they can’t speak at all. I can remind them they are still themselves, still strong, still capable: just on a journey of discovery.

Like Sam, I believe in the power of small acts: food, warmth, patience, laughter. 

The invisible magic that helps someone keep going when they think they can’t. And, like Sam, I know when to step back. When the mountain has been climbed and the family begins to find their rhythm, my role is to fade gently into the background. 

The work was never about me, it was about helping them remember who they are. Because every parent deserves to feel accompanied, not rescued. Every mother deserves a Samwise by her side.

The Heart That Carries On

Sam’s story reminds me that true support rarely looks heroic. It is often found in the background, in the hand that steadies, the meal that appears without asking, the gentle voice that says, “You’re doing it. You’re getting there.”

This is the pulse of doula work too. We walk alongside people as they cross one of life’s biggest thresholds. We witness them change, soften, grow; and when they are ready, we step back and let them carry on.

Maybe that is why Samwise's words linger so deeply: 

"In the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in the stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there is good in this world.” 

They speak to the kind of love that holds without owning, that strengthens without saving. Every family deserves someone like that on their journey: a steady presence who believes in their strength, reminds them of home, and quietly helps them find their way back to themselves.