pregnant

5 Truly Terrifying Things About Birth in the UK

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

As the theme changes from spooky to sparkles, I am jumping on this trend with a quick note today, because honestly, while everyone sharing their fabulous decorations, costumes, and pumpkins – almost all of which have a HUGE impact on the environment and carry their own horror story, there’s also a 365 day crisis in perintal care that’s far scarier than Halloween.

5 truely spooky things, going on every single day within birth, because the system is build to conveyor belt families from pregnancy through to postpartum as conveniently as possible. This is  not because those working in it want to, but because that’s the way policies and systems have been built.

Scary stuff!

So, heres just 5, of the many terrifying things going on in the birth world … all year round.

The lies in antenatal care from professionals in the system – I know I said above that it’s not those working in the system, and most of the time, it isn’t. But the truth is, sometimes it is. Sometimes it is professionals ticking boxes, sometimes it’s disregarding evidence based care, sometimes it’s policy and sometimes it’s someone who’s burnt out and exhausted. But the lies come. And the ripples they create are immense.

Induction rates are incredibly high. When there’s a medical need, induction can be an incredibly useful life-saving tool, and thank goodness for that. However for the majority of women and birthing people induction is often a result of lack of confidence,  misinformation, scarmongering and guidance about ‘big babies’ or  being ‘overdue’. It isn’t based on the latest evidence and induction – in its various forms – ends up being the first step in a sliding scale of interventions which often perpetuate trauam for all those involved.

Lack of trauma informed, neruodivergent aware, autonomy based care is in part related to the point above: induction. However, it goes well beyond that. A lack of well rounded training and resources means that a majority of healthcare professionals, while well intentioned, often don’t have the correct language or experience to be able to support the different women and birthing people that they are seeing. The lack of neurodiverse not knowledge means that a lot of the time, families are treated in ways that cause more harm, coerce all violate their rates to autonomy. The reality of this is that once again, women, birthing people, partners and the babies involved are coming away from birthing within the system with experiences they need to heal from right at the start of this new journey together.

When we have a lack of support and we feel out of control or in danger. Physiological birth is halted, and our bodies go into shut down. This means that a majority of families are starting their journey together with this new baby,  and also having to recover from the experience of pregnancy and birth.

The maternal mortality rate for non white bodies is another incredibly scary aspect of birth in not just the UK but around the Western world. The reality is that biases exist, unconscious ones often doing more harm than we realise. Although most people don’t believe themselves to be racist, these are socialised biases that have informed everything we do, so of course, it is unsurprising that we see them unfold in preintal care too. 


Lastly, the bullying, coercion, and violation that women and birthing are experiencing every day. Unfortunately, almost everyone who has been through the system will have an experience where they have been treated in a less than ideal way. However, the scariest part of this is that they leave, and I, myself have done this too, grateful for the fact that they have come out not as damaged as they could be, and that their baby is there, not damaged or as damaged as could have been.


Halloween is one day.
One commercialised day adulterated from ancient traditions.


The crisis in perinatal care is all year round.

If you’re planning a baby or pregnant – get informed. You and your baby deserve better than what is currently happening.

Where You Birth Matters

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

The way a baby is born impacts them on some level for their whole life.

The way they are born. The people around them. The environment they enter this world into.

Baby’s born into war carry that, (if they survive) into the life they live and it physically alters the DNA of their decendants. This has been heavily weighing on my mind this week, as we watch the events in the middle East unfold- with little to no voice given to the reality birthing women and babies are facing.

Baby’s born into immense privilege carry it too… though not always in the ways we might assume. Privilege often equates to a certain amount of resources over and above others. In the birth world, it’s a little more nuanced than that.

Assuming that you’re birthing outside of a war zone then; what impact does the environment of birth really have? It matters deeply, not just for babies but for mothers and partners too.

We cannot prepare for the future without embracing the meaning and the relevance of the baby’s perspective on life.

-Michel Odent

We know that mothers birthing in supported environments where they feel safe and nurtured pass this information on to their babies. The same is true for mothers who birth in conditions of big T and little t trauma. From hospitals to birthing centers to home births, the space you birth will shape everything from the medical interventions used to the emotional atmosphere surrounding your birth. After numerous conversations about why thinking about this as early on as possible matters, I thought I’d write a little on it.

Choosing where to give birth is a deeply personal decision. The assumption that everyone has the information and resources to choose the way they want is one I just cannot make. Socio-economic factors come into play, race, ethnicity and culture too. In the UK (at least at the time of writing in 2024), you can legally choose where you birth, and that choice can absolutely impact the way your birth story plays out.

Ultimately, its your choice, so get informed! There are far too many women told they can only birth in hospital when truly they do have other options. Equally, if the idea of birthing anywhere outside a hospital gives you shudders, then planning that ahead matters.

I want to preface the next few passages by highlighting that ultimately I believe every single baby comes earthside in the way they need to, with their unique birth resourcing them in various ways. 

What are your options?

Hospital, Birth Centre, Home. I won’t chat freebirth, that’s for another day.

Hospitals are the high tech options, sold to us as high safety, but also the space where the highest levels of birth trauma exist. Hopstials are supposed to be safe – and when they work, they are a blessing. More and more though, especially for women who have no or low ‘risk’ factors the hosptial birth story isn’t a happy one.

Hospitals represent the standard choice for childbirth, they are normalised in the media we consume right from childhood, and other spaces are considered ‘alternative’ or even a little radical. There are an array of medical interventions and expertise available, with health care professionals and a full range of technology on hand to monitor baby and mother throughout labour. There’s access to all sorts of interventions and pain relief options, and of course surgery.

While a cesarean birth can be lifesaving; for many of us in the birth world, we can see that it is the interventions prior that snowballed a healthy birth into an emergency. The conveyor belt system of induction and cesarean births is all a bit too neatly boxed up; and it takes away from the rite of passage birth physiologically is.

Hospital births are often a ticket to the trauma train because procedure trumps real life experience, and women are often gaslit, ignored, or violated. Circling back to babies, this also means babies are being ignored, assaulted and sent the information that the world is scary and unsafe.

Birth is nearly never an emergency, but sometimes it is. If you need to prioritise safety with medical resources, then a hospital birth is a blessing.

If you don’t… Read on.

A birth centre/midwife unit:

Birth centres are often described as kind of like the middle ground between hospital and home. They’re quieter, often offer a pool, can have the lights dimmed and try to be as warm and cosy as possible. Most birth centers will try to encourage birth to be as intervention free as possible, and I’ve heard of some beautiful birth stories with supportive staff in them.

However, with the ever increasing agenda to streamline birth (and yes this is the agenda), more birth centres are being closed or told they can’t operate fully because of staffing levels. Midwife units cannot support birthing women if they aren’t supported themselves; which means being able to access these is getting harder. Added to this is the fact most of them are for babies being born physiologically with little / no risk, and will turn away women who don’t their box.

This isn’t without reason, birth centres aren’t equipped to navigate emergencies or complications, and so err on the slide of caution. Birth centres can be some of the most beautiful, supportive and nurturing spaces, and midwives often go above and beyond to make them so… but they need to be given the resources for that to happen.

Home births:

For a healthy woman, the first intervention in birth and labour is leaving home. This is something I learned only after my 2nd child, and having had both hospital and home births myself, it is something I wholly believe to be true. As a woman, I know my homebirths were far more positive than my hospital ones, and I only got here through research and experience.

As a doula who wholeheartedly supports informed choices, I will never tell a potential client where to birth, but I will absolutely encourage you to really think about what that means to you.

Homebirths are growing in popularity, becoming something many mothers return to. I don’t see this as a a coincidence, it is a remembering. A remembering that sovereign birth is something we all have the right to. A return to reclaim the power of birth. Homebirths are in the comfort of your own space, so autonomy comes more naturally. You aren’t entering someone else’s space, they are visiting yours as a support system for you.

You can choose the environment, the lights the music etc, and if you decide you want to transfer, then that’s okay. It’s a choice you make. For first time mothers, there’s evidence to say that home births are far less traumatic, bonding feels easier and healing is quicker. Because in your space, generally speaking you feel safer, therefore all these processes don’t need to be big and hard, they can flow with ease. You can take breaks, chill out, zone out, and rest without interruption or inspection. There’s a reason mammals find/create dark quiet spaces for birthing, it is a primal instinct to do so. Humans like to think we are different, but hardly so.

Before I sign off, I have a question for you. Did you birth in more than one of these settings? What were your experiences of thr difference ? If you feel called to and safe to share, get in touch. I’d be honoured to hear from you.

With love, until next time,

Rohana x

Why I became a birth photographer?

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

When I had my first child over 7 years ago, I had never heard of birth photography. I had the idea that I wanted to see my baby being born, and I asked if I could have a camera set up. I didn’t really understand why I wanted to, all I knew was it felt deeply important to me.

The hospital I was birthing at said no. I didn’t argue. I didn’t know how.

That birth, my first child, was traumatic in a number of ways and I’ve worked hard to heal my memories surrounding it. Still, I wish I had photos of it. I wish I could see the woman I was in those moments.

Alas, I cannot.

But I learned my lesson. When I fell pregnant again, I spoke to my partner about wanting to hire a photographer, and so we did.

I looked for a local photographer because at that time, nearly 5 years ago, birth photography wasn’t as popular as it is today. We found one who I trusted and got on with, and she agreed to venture out of her normal photography niche and capture my birth. Those photos are some of the most profound ones I have from that time. Unfortunately, my daughter was ready before anyone else, and the moment I craved capture of, was missed.

Still, having the details like the song she was born to, the pictures of me holding her as I stood up, blood dripped down my legs, cord still attached. They are frozen in time, ready to transport me back. They are a gift from my past self, and they are a gift to my future self too. Moments I have to hold forever.

When I got those images I knew that I wanted to give this to other families. I wanted to capture the rawness of these moments, and the intimacy of saying hello for the first time.

We say that you never forget the birth of your baby, and yes in part it’s true. But memories do fade. Time robs us of details. The haze of motherhood buries the deeply vulnerable early hours postpartum.

Documenting them feels like being able to save a sliver of one of life’s most powerful periods. Giving that to others is a privilege and honour.

When I had my 3rd baby, I hired another birth photographer. We planned a homebirth but ended up freebirthing. She documented the minutes I worried I wouldn’t be able to birth my baby, and she captured the moment where he was between worlds, head here, body not yet earthside, me, a portal.

In the months afterwards where I felt like I was drowning, the photographs she gave us reminded me that I could do the hardest things and survive.

Birth photography isn’t a trend, or just a photo to post on Instagram. It’s powerful, and healing far beyond what we may realise at the time.

Would I recommend it? A big YES! Not only because I do it, but because so many women I’ve spoken to have said, nomatter how their births have gone, they would have loved more images. Those who have them, treasure them deeply.

Baby’s are only born once after all, and no two births are the same.

With love,

Rohana x

Day 2

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I’m back. Today I did a yoga practice, took the kids to the park, and have spent the last couple of hours working on sublimation t-shirt prints that I am making to fundraise for Gaza. It’s been a good day and I am exhausted in a joyful way.

The eclipse yesterday sparked a few conversations which felt authentic from a home ed point of view, and today things have felt calmer. The wind was strong but the sun came out and my kids played for hours outside. Then we came home and they played here, before tuning in to a new programme so I could rest. My body, at 31 weeks of growing another human, has reminded me today, that I am not actually capable of as much as I used to be. My body, in it’s wisdom, asking me to honour the need for a slower pace, and to rest; because it knows, as changes come, rest will look very different soon.

Tonight I’m thinking about rest, and about yoga, breathwork, and Palestine. I am thinking about how my body, growing our baby dragon is able to ask for rest, to ask for nourishment, to be held safely. I am privileged, and as in every pregnancy, acutely aware of it. This time, far more resourced, far more ready, and far more willing to listen; while also being aware that women, just like me in many ways, are carrying babies through stress, heartbreak, displacement, famine, and phycological warfare as well as genocide. I have learned, more deeply in these past months than ever before; how to hold solidarity in my body, bare witness and look away when needed, coming back, and trying to create ripples of healing.

The past 6 months I have delved into learning more deeply about pregnancy, our experiences in the womb and how we are in fact so much more aware and impacted even before life earthside begins; and as I have learned, I have grown in my knowledge, and in my belly; and in my capacity to practice compassion while NOT jumping into overwhelm. I have tried to protect my baby from the stress, while not disappearing into a bubble (a previous, very effective strategy of mine).

As I type, I think of the women who don’t have the choices I do; who are birthing to the sound of drones, who are carrying through loss and change more tumultuous than I can cognitively comprehend; and I feel a sense of understanding… I know in my bones, from lives before this one, that these experiences will not break them; because the resilience passed on is just as strong as the trauma. I have a sense of real solidarity, compassion and also rage. I am burning… and that fire has led to these t-shirts that sit before me; a way for me to fundraise a little, a way for me to contribute more than contaminate. That fire has led to something bigger too; a project I worked on for weeks, pulling in different people to help, and creating resources. Small, and still, ripples… ripples that I can see and ripples that I can’t.

I hope that this baby feels those ripples; the burning inside me, to do more and also to honour rest. It isn’t something I have gifted my other babies, already earthside teaching me daily. I didn’t know how to then; but now, I am doing what I can, with different tools in my toolbox… I can feel them wriggling inside me, dancing in my belly (and making me need a wee!); and I am beyond grateful for the lessons.

Until tomorrow,

With love,

Rohana x

Changing pace

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

The long weeks over October (at what feels like 100 mph) have taken their toll this week. My body has complained; my mental health plummeted. I try and make time to write, to read, to do some yoga but inevitably, I push myself to the bottom of my priorities, and end up struggling.

This weekend has forced me to slow down. I’ve been too exhausted to do anything else. The universe is telling me I need a change of pace.

It’s hard, because I’m not used to it, but I know if I don’t, I’ll suffer in the long run. Growing a human is hard enough without the added stresses, and I want to keep growing her for another 6 weeks!

Theo forced me to slow down today. He wanted to be with me and cuddle. He made sure I sat down, bossing me about! How does my toddler know what I need more than I do? Or do I just ignore myself?

I’ve made a to-do list for tomorrow/this week. It’s long, but flexible. I’m hoping it’ll help.

For now, it’s sleep-time. I’ll need all the rest possible for tomorow.

#Mumlife isn’t easy…

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Finding inspiration to write is not always easy, not is it easy to find time when a good idea hits. These past couple of weeks I have had several “I could do a blog post about that” moments, but inevitably the time passes and I haven’t managed to open up my laptop. Add on to that the fact that TP is extremely possessive of my phone when it is out, these moments pass.

Thinking about that though, about how fleeting moments are, and about how quickly time slips away, is itself, something to share. Recently this has come up a lot for me; the hours and days we wish away. At 27 weeks pregnant now, with a 25 month old, I will be the first to admit that I take a lot of it for granted. I ‘just know’ that tomorrow we can make up for today, or that after nap-time we can do something fun, or that the weather will be better next week for us to go out walking more. I assume that I will continue to be able to run around after my son, and pick him up, throw him around and let him ride ‘monkey’ on my back down the stairs. He sits on my belly and we joke he is sitting on his sister as he climbs onto my shoulders.

On the other side of it though, are the long hours where I thank god and the BBC for Mr Tumble and let TP sit through many, many episodes just so I can eat and cook and do the washing and check my email and maybe if I’m lucky go to the loo before he gets up and demands attention. There are 5am starts and 10pm bedtimes, the food strikes or tantrums for anything other than marshmallows, the milk hunger to the point my nipples feel they might fall off, and the hitting and biting that is his current method of expressing upset and anger. These are moments that I want to pass quickly, because staying present and accepting is hard, it’s easier to wish the hour away and want to ‘move on’ to the next thing on our schedule.

Yet these are also the moments I think back on with a wry smile, because the cuddles and healing that happen after are often the best hugs and cutest conversations. So why do I wish them away?

Because I am tired.

Because I am embarrassed.

Because they make me feel like I am raising a ‘trouble’ child.

Because accepting and dealing with the harder minutes is not easy. Parenthood is not easy.

But it is worth it.

From April to August; An Unplanned Break from Blogging

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

My son is currently asleep for his daily nap and I have a To-Do List as long as my arm but today, after months away, I wanted to blog. I have thought so much about why I stopped, why I lost it on my list of priorities and how I miss typing away and sharing my life.

I lost touch with a lot of things over the last few months, adjusting to life with Harrison home, falling pregnant and facing the parenting struggles (and adventures) that come with having a 2 year old. The days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, where I chose to watch useless television or even worse, scroll my Facebook and Instagram feeds, pretending that it was a good use of my time! How easy it is to get sucked into wasting precious minutes mindlessly on these apps. I love the ability to share and connect, but not the ease with which we are trapped into staying on the platform longer and longer.

Turning off my phone, or at least my internet recently has helped, maybe that is why I have found my way back to the keyboard. Or perhaps it was the gentle push from my mother this weekend, reminding me that writing has been a great way to care for myself, express and evaluate, let go of emotions and heal from experiences. If I want to express myself, share my life constructively, and unpack the emotional backpack I am carrying, writing is a much better idea that Facebook scrolling isn’t it?  So here we are, hopefully this time for a long time.

I won’t attempt to relieve all that has gone on since April, but I will fill in all the important bits, at least the big ones; like my little brother moving to Australia, my best friend in Scotland moving away for a year, and TP losing his best buddy (her daughter). My anxiety over TPs birth trauma made an appearance (which I am slowly trying to heal) while we were on our first ever family holiday, and we have had members of both sides of the family come to visit. TPs speech is incredible now, and I learned that even in Scotland, a paddling pool or variation of one is an asset on the hot days. H bought a bike and is using it, and I am driving around a lot more comfortable, albeit locally. We have also begun to really enjoy cooking from scratch and learning how to love the kitchen. The rest, well it’s history, but the future is still waiting, holding stories and laughter and love for us to share.

You might have also caught that I am pregnant – yep! – 25 weeks currently, and a big part of the reason I stopped writing. There were a few weeks in the first trimester I walked around permanently holding either a sick bowl or bag, and crying because I wasn’t able to do much else. But it passed, after a lot of trial and error I found a couple of pregnancy sickness tricks to keep it at bay (another post about this will come) and finally we are over it (mostly!).

Apart from that tiny detail, my first born, Theo Prana turned 2 this July, making me officially the mum of a wild toddler who is the biggest light in my life but also makes me want to curl up under the blanket with a tub of ice-cream and hide. Nobody can prepare you for parenthood and each stage has its challenges, but toddlerhood is by far the most testing. That said, we are working on finding the balance, and thankfully H is very on board with a lot of the peaceful parenting ideas I propose, so we are a team rather than giving TP mixed signals by being confused ourselves.

We also started cloth nappies, and reusable wipes, and as a family (sometimes actually led more by H than myself) trying to cut down our plastic consumption and be less wasteful. This has been an amazing development for us because we both feel like as TP gets older and understands more, we want him to know we did our best for the planet, and we didn’t stay ignorant. It is hard, sometimes we forget, sometimes even though we remember, we cannot afford the ‘planet friendly’ options, but every little bit we do makes a difference in the big picture, like the butterfly who’s wings flapping could be felt across the earth, each step we make, is a step forward.

Oh and lastly, we are moving house! Still a little while to go, so I won’t share much on it yet, but I guess that is also kind of a big reason I have felt like life is so busy, because we have had a few really major things to adjust to. All good thankfully and I am so grateful for that.

Until the next time, 

XOXO

R