Birth can appear very different in different parts of the world. In some countries we give birth safely between the white walls of hospital surrounded by medics and machines. In others, relatives and neighbours will circle the birthing woman, singing in the dark of a hut, far from medical help. But the woman at the centre of the picture – wherever she lives – is undertaking the same phenomenal journey to the edge of existence and back.
Birth can appear very different in different parts of the world.In some countries we give birth safely between the white walls of hospital surrounded by medics and machines. In others, relatives and neighbours will circle the birthing woman, singing in the dark of a hut, far from medical help.But the woman at the centre of the picture – wherever she lives – is undertaking the same phenomenal journey to the edge of existence and back.In the USA, the smiling image of her safe return, babe in arms, is sent to waiting relative and friends via her partner’s phone.In less high tech places, the good news is spread house to house by delighted relatives, or solemnly announced to Earth’s four winds by an Elder of the family.But everywhere there is relief and joy. She has returned – bringing a new family member – and she has become a mother.Now, she and her newborn need rest, nourishment, love and affection. Everywhere, friends and relatives want to visit. They bring food, gifts and good wishes. They embrace mother and child, offering wisdom and support as the child embarks on his or her first feed, first bath, first steps…Of course it is not always like this.As a journalist covering women’s health and rights, I had discovered to my horror that childbirth remains the biggest killer of young women in many parts of Africa and Asia. How could this be when in Europe (where I live) deaths in childbirth are largely a thing of the past?Frustrated by the apparent inertia and silence about this at international level, I was delighted to discover the grassroots network of activists across Africa and Asia, known as the White Ribbon Alliance. At last, here were people who really knew the problems of their own communities, and who knew how to fix them!And here were the voices of women and their families, crying out to be heard.The stories of course were terribly sad – still are.But they also demanded urgent action; 99 per cent of deaths in childhood happen in the so-called developing world and almost all can be prevented. I began working with White Ribbon Alliance because I saw that a united coalition of advocates from all walks of life, speaking with one voice to their own governments, have the best chance of bringing sustainable change for women.And recently we have seen historic improvements, with deaths in childbirth down by half.Yes, half! That proves it can be done, and now it must be done – for the other half!The time was right to emphasise the positive and I began gathering stories about all the customs and practices which support pregnant women, new mothers and their newborns.The same advocates who spoke with such passion to their own political leaders, urging them to keep the promises made on women’s health, were quick to tell me of the celebrations and traditions which cherish and protect mothers in their own cultures. There is a world of wisdom out there, and we can learn so much from women if only they have an opportunity to be heard.In North America and increasingly Europe, the baby shower is one such celebration.But did you know that myriad other cultures have their own traditional versions? Across Asia, when pregnancy is announced at (a relatively safe) seven months, relatives hold a party for the mother to be. Guests bring her favourite foods, and presents of clothing and jewellery, filing past to place their gifts on her lap and whisper promises of support and encouragement in her ear.In Africa – overturning the stereotype – women told me how their cultures ensure that new mothers are treated like queens, with the best food set aside and often cooked by their husbands.For forty days after the birth, new mothers in Chagga culture (Tanzania’s Kilimanjaro region) are looked after hand and foot with no work to do other than breastfeeding.In parts of Somalia, men are banished for this time – until after forty days when they return for a ‘second wedding’ celebration.And when the mother emerges again into the world, often after a time of seclusion (which can also help to safeguard against infections), she parades with her baby through the community, her new dress or sash proclaiming her status in the community, a position of respect and honour.Again, the variety – yet commonality – of the ceremonies which name and welcome babies was a revelation to me. The urge to protect the newborn from evil, to usher the new child into the community, to pledge community support for the mother and her family, is universal – whether the ceremony involves a priest with holy water or special offerings to the gods.It remains true that conflict and poverty put paid to all the best traditions, and that far too many women still have no access to the C-sections, blood banks, medicines and trained staff which can save their lives when things do go wrong.Oneworld Publications, April 2014.But writing this book, in support of White Ribbon Alliance, reinforces my view that we must (and we can) make birth safer for all women. Birth is a time of great vulnerability, but also potentially of great strength, in the lives of women.It is also a moment when every society’s assumptions about women and our true value come into sharp focus.So if we can challenge and alter unequal power relations for the better, we can not only make sure that individual mothers are safer, we can create a healthier, safer world.Brigid McConville is Director of Media and Outreach at the White Ribbon Alliance and an award-winning journalist.This blog first appeared on the Write All the Words website on 3 March 2014