Death With Dignity: Death Doulas Gain Traction Across Floirda

Jamie May is a local death doula. A facilitator between two worlds, she hosts Death Cafes — gatherings for people to discuss death — in the cozy glow of Naples’ Brookside Beer Market on Davis Boulevard. She also volunteers her services to Avow Hospice, where she serves on a vigil sitting team, taking four-hour shifts to stay with dying individuals on overnights.

Death doulas, parallel to better-known birth doulas, help individuals and families in the dying and grieving process, something local and national experts say is a taboo topic in American culture.

“We want to try to make society more death positive. Walking alongside my mortality has opened up the most authentic life I could imagine,” May, who operates her death doula practice under her LLC, Loving Legacy Florida, said.

“Doula" originates from the Ancient Greek word doulē, meaning "female servant" or "slave woman," referring to a woman who provides intimate service, but death doulas can also be male.

Entertainment like HBO’s hit medical drama “The Pitt” are starting to bring conversations about death doulas to the mainstream. Even actress Nicole Kidman made headlines after announcing her training to become one.

But much of the work, especially in rural areas, exists underground, as end-of-life doula work remains unregulated at a federal level.

“There are a lot of people who never put themselves out there as a practitioner, but they’re in the community,” May said. “I hope there are more of me in the future.”

From pain to community

May entered her practice after losing a friend in 2022. Similar throughlines to the work exist for many doulas.

Shanti Vani, based in Gainesville, is a death doula, educator and co-founder of the Florida End of Life Doula Alliance who specializes in grief.

She was called to the work after years as a respiratory therapist and incorporates Buddhist teachings in her philosophy.

“From 2013 to 2018, seven of my family members died. After my mom died I went to the International End-of-Life Doula Association (INELDA) training. Through my own tempering of the steel I’ve been able to be there for other people,” she said.

She notes more people are becoming interested in the calling or working with a doula, especially those who may have had unpleasant experiences in the medical system.

“It’s a personal connection that doctors don’t have time for. I encourage people to explore with their heart open.”

Bridging a gap in care

May argues the current “sandwich generation,” those currently juggling work, children and caring for their baby boomer parents, will hit a care crisis — one that doulas could help stabilize.

Loren Talbot of INELDA, a photo editor turned death doula, saw a rise in training demand at the organization during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Even though doula training is not regulated or required, organizations like INELDA and the National End-of-Life-Doula Alliance offer comprehensive training.

“We center the autonomy of the dying person, and don’t have preconceived notions of what those might be,” she said.

Access could also change if death doulas are ever granted insurance reimbursements, as birth doulas in some states are. Talbot notes a schism exists in the doula community on supporting reimbursements.

“There are many people that create beautiful businesses, but it depends on what the individual wants to create for themselves.”

For both volunteer and business-minded practitioners, centering death is paramount. Discussing it, sitting with it and learning from it are deeply ingrained in the work.

As Vani says, the living should look at the obstacles they face surrounding topics of death and grief.

“When it comes to death what are you afraid of? Would you rather talk about it now and be relaxed, or be in panic later on,” she said.