Dear Midwives,
Few professions have every single, seemingly ordinary workday made up of life-changing moments. Few jobs place you not just at the start of life, but actively shaping how someone—and along with them, someone else—begins a completely new role. That’s exactly what your work is. Every shift, you stand at the edge of life: women become mothers, babies arrive, families are born. This isn’t an exaggeration—it’s your everyday reality.
As a midwife, you’re there when body and soul are pushed to their limits. When a woman is vulnerable, exposed, yet incredibly strong. When fear, pain, instinct, and hope all show up at once. In these moments, every word, every touch, every half-smile carries multiplied weight. You are not just experts, but anchors who hold us steady between two worlds so we don’t fall into darkness.
My own birth experience was deeply shaped by my midwife. She was confident, relaxed, yet endlessly kind and attentive. She didn’t work from a textbook; she instinctively sensed what I needed right then and there. She didn’t try to "tell me what to do," didn’t want to control or push anything on me. She was simply present—in her full self.
When fear overwhelmed me, she didn’t try to soothe or coddle. She didn’t say, “Everything will be fine”, because she knew that would sound empty in that moment. She stood beside me, took my hand, and simply asked: “What are you afraid of? You’re doing perfectly!” That sentence didn’t just calm me—it gave me back my strength. She helped me believe I could do this. What felt like an impossible challenge to me was something millions of women have faced every day since the dawn of time. I could do it, too.
Later, when I ran out of strength pushing, she sensed it. She didn’t start giving orders, didn’t criticize my pace, didn’t rush me. She just smiled and said:
I can see the hair! You’ll see it soon, too!
Those few words suddenly made it clear again why I was doing all this. Why every pain and every loss of strength would be worth it—and what reward I would soon hold in my arms.
Her presence, that respect, gentle determination, encouragement, and space she gave me played a huge part in why today, when I look back on my birth, I don’t remember fear or pain. I remember feeling like a goddess.
I know the healthcare system has many gaps. I know conditions are often harsh, expectations unrealistic, and overload constant. As a birthing woman, we only spend a few days in this system. But you face it every single day. That’s why I want to remind you of something: the power in your hands.
You decide whether a woman leaves the delivery room with one of the most beautiful or one of the most traumatic experiences of her life.
Your role is crucial in how a mother and child’s relationship begins. That’s immense power. You can change worlds every single day.
Please remember this—even on the hardest days. Those of you who do will be whispered about with gratitude by thousands of mothers for a lifetime. Thank you for being there for us!
