A death doula’s commitment to bridging the gaps in end-of-life care

“We move forward with heart in everything we do.”

As a young child, Megan Povlitzki experienced significant loss through the death of her grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, and classmates. Grief and all of the emotions it’s comprised of — confusion, frustration, sadness, and anger (to name a few) — became an all-too-familiar feeling. 

“I’ve always found myself naturally gravitating toward death and grief,” says Megan. “I suppose it just became comfortable because I knew it so well.”

Yet, even though she felt at home at a funeral service, she recognized a sense of dissatisfaction from friends and family, similar to her own, during those services. As an example, she specifically recalls giving fingernail polish to a funeral director to be painted on her grandmother's nails before her viewing. That fingernail polish was never used. She wondered why her grandfather’s hair was parted on the wrong side. She questioned the choice of music and didn’t understand why everyone was wearing black when she wanted to wear color — a color that made her feel joyful because joy was what she felt when her now-deceased family members were still alive. But it wasn’t until she was 22 years old, following the sudden and unexpected passing of her father, that Megan’s frustration with the deathcare industry inspired her to change it from the inside out. 

Megan (top left) with her siblings and father.

Megan and her father.

“When my dad died, my life changed forever,” says Megan. “Navigating the circumstances around his death was challenging and upsetting. There were a lot of questions my sisters and I wished we had the answers for, a lot of conversations we wished we had had. We yearned for support that simply didn’t exist or couldn't be found. We did our best to pull together a meaningful service, but I think we and the funeral home we worked with fell short on so many levels.” 

Over the next decade, what started as a curiosity — wondering how Western culture could “do death” differently — turned into an obsession. Megan became a self-proclaimed death expert and the person her friends and family would turn to for support when someone they loved had died. She assisted in writing obituaries and eulogies, served as a sounding board for people needing to express anger, resentment, fear, and sorrow, and aided people in advocating for themselves as they prepared for end-of-life or planned their loved one’s funeral arrangements. In 2020, she became a certified death doula (also called an end-of-life doula or coach), excited about a future in which her career would align with her soul’s calling.

“Truly, it was like the work found me,” says Megan. 

Death doulas across the world share a similar sentiment — the role of supporting and guiding others through the dying process is a calling.

What is a death doula?

A death doula works with individuals and their families to provide emotional, physical, and spiritual support, education, and guidance leading up to death. Though death doulas aren’t licensed to provide hands-on medical assistance, they may advocate for the dying person with medical professionals and hospice teams. Of the many roles they might play, their primary goal is to help the terminally ill feel at peace with dying.

Doulas create space to talk openly about the dying process, which can alleviate feelings of isolation, loneliness, and anxiety. They may also assist dying individuals with legacy projects (writing letters, creating scrapbooks or videos, etc.), and be called upon to facilitate conversations with estranged family members. They often refer people to professionals who help with estate planning and other legal matters. Doulas may work alongside family to ensure end-of-life wishes related to funeral arrangements and final disposition are followed. Doulas might also provide respite support to caregivers, which can be a round-the-clock responsibility. In many ways, their core function is to help people prepare for what’s to come by being present, listening, and ensuring crucial conversations are had before it's too late.

Megan is among hundreds of Americans who gravitated toward this occupation during the pandemic. And though her priority is bringing comfort to the individual who’s dying, she also offers support to their friends and family. She describes her work as having a butterfly effect.

“People don’t always know how to be there for others who are dying or struggling with grief, some even avoid it entirely,” says Megan. “Death doulas can demonstrate how to show up, how to help bear some of that emotional burden, and what the gift of time and presence looks like.”

The number of practicing doulas in Minnesota is growing, and the need for doula services is being sought after and recognized more than ever before. One misconception about doula work is that their services are only useful to people who have been given a year or less to live. However, doulas also can be called upon to help families navigate a sudden, unexpected death.

“There’s a stigma around many types of death — suicide, addiction, lifestyle choices, or crime,” says Megan. “In my doula work with families, I aim to remove this stigma and reduce any shame or embarrassment survivors may feel after the sudden passing of someone they cared for so much. I’ve seen first-hand how moving forward with authenticity can significantly impact the healing and grieving process.”

Where funeral directors can fall short or even fail in deathcare

Many assume funeral directors are well-versed in death culture, trained in grief support, or have expertise in all the options families must consider regarding disposition. These misconceptions can be startling for families seeking compassion, guidance, and transparency after the loss of a loved one. They can also be a source of disappointment for practicing doulas.

“As a doula, I’m able to provide real, meaningful services to the dying and their relatives,” says Megan. “But then after someone passes away, I have to let go of that work and everything is handed to a funeral director who might not support my clients with the same compassion and care. Too many times I’ve heard ‘That is not how we wanted that to go,’ ‘That service did not represent who they were,’ or ‘I wish I had known I had other options.’” 

Worse yet, many funeral directors fail to honor the authentic life of the deceased or are unwilling to follow documented end-of-life wishes. Further, Megan noted, it’s not uncommon to experience discrimination in deathcare. For example, someone may be misgendered after death or treated poorly due to their size. Their relationships may be misrepresented (calling a spouse or long-time partner a friend), or their desire to incorporate cultural or religious rituals may be refused. 

“I’ve witnessed discriminatory practices in many different scenarios and interactions between funeral professionals and the clients I’ve served,” says Megan. “That’s unacceptable.”

Once her frustrations reached a tipping point, Megan decided to pursue a degree in mortuary science so she could be a resource to clients before and after death. 

Determined to improve the experience she and so many families have had with funeral service professionals, Megan’s goal as a licensed mortician is to provide end-to-end services and to ensure the wishes her clients communicate before death are honored and executed with the highest degree of care.

She’s hoping to be part of a huge disruption within the funeral industry, with a return to the basics of what should be a human-centered service. So when she met Kelly Roberts, Founder of SendOff – Funerals Reimagined, she was ecstatic to learn that he also shared the same passion for disruption. And in addition to Kelly pushing for change within the funeral industry, he’s bringing deathcare and end-of-life professionals to the same table, creating a community of people-first experts who dedicate their time and energy to helping others die with dignity and autonomy.

During their first conversation, Megan learned that Kelly co-owns Roberts Family Funeral Home in Forest Lake, Minnesota, a place she had visited years ago for a service honoring the life of a dear friend. Megan was pleasantly surprised to see how much care and thoughtful detail they had infused into the service. “It was so personal — which is what deathcare should be — on every level,” says Megan.

Adding to her enthusiasm, she discovered the SendOff team is working on ways to incorporate a more holistic approach to death and dying by offering end-of-life doula services and post-death grief support. 

“On my very first day of working with Kelly and the rest of the SendOff team, I could see right away that we do things differently,” says Megan, who now works as the Director of Operations at SendOff with the goal of adding licensed funeral director to her title. “We move forward with heart in everything we do.”

Megan is also a member of the Minnesota Death Collaborative and serves on the National Organic Reduction Action Team in Minnesota, which advocates for the legalization of NOR (also known as human composting) in Minnesota. She actively supports the legalization of Medical Aid in Dying. She’s determined to expand end-of-life options across the country, and is equally passionate about educating those she serves, giving them the information they need to make the best decisions based on their unique circumstance. 

Learn more

If you’re seeking the support of a death doula, or have questions about how a doula may bring value to you or someone you know, contact SendOff for more information.