What the Delivery Room Taught Me About Motherhood,Mental Health, and Advocacy

Maternal Awareness Day feels like an appropriate moment to name how much my

understanding of pregnancy, labor, and motherhood was shaped—not by textbooks or

training—but by being invited into a delivery room.

One of my best friends allowed me to be present when she gave birth to her daughter. I went in with ideas about what labor looked like. I left with a completely different understanding of how quickly everything changes once a baby is coming into the world.

What struck me most was how fast decisions were made. How rapidly the room filled. How

consent, while present, often became implied—because urgency and emergent needs took

precedence. In those moments, the focus understandably shifted to the baby. But it was also

clear how easily the mother’s experience, body, and voice could become secondary, even

though both the baby and the mother are the patient.

That dynamic evolves over the course of the hospital stay, but the imprint of those moments

matters. They shape how someone remembers birth. They shape trust. They shape trauma—or the absence of it.

As a therapist, and especially in my work with women preparing for motherhood, that

experience stayed with me.

I began to notice how many needs go unmet long before anyone ever enters a delivery room.

How little education many people receive about their cycles, fertility, and what their bodies are communicating to them. How pregnancy preparation is often framed physically, but rarely

emotionally, psychologically, or relationally.

Over time, I made cycle education a necessary part of preparation work—not as an add-on, but as foundational. Understanding one’s body, hormonal shifts, and baseline mental health

patterns matters. So does understanding the mental health conditions that can emerge during

pregnancy, as well as prepartum and postpartum mood and anxiety disorders.

That preparation doesn’t stop with the person carrying the baby.

Part of my work includes ensuring partners are informed as well—especially around male

postpartum mental health, which is still rarely discussed. When partners understand what to

look for, how to name changes, and how to ask for support, families are better equipped to

identify needs early rather than waiting until crisis.

Much of my work with Black women also involves naming something that is often minimized:

creating life can be dangerous. Black maternal health outcomes make that reality impossible to ignore. Preparation, in this context, includes learning how to advocate for oneself and—critically—how to equip partners with the language to advocate when a mother cannot.

Because in delivery rooms, things move fast. Voices can be missed. And advocacy can be the

difference between being seen and being overlooked.

Maternal awareness isn’t just about pregnancy. It’s about honoring the physical, emotional,

psychological, and systemic realities that shape the journey into motherhood. It’s about

preparation that centers safety, dignity, mental health, and choice—not just outcomes.

That delivery room changed how I see all of it. And it continues to inform how I support women and families preparing to bring new life into the world.

A Gentle Call to Action

If you are preparing for pregnancy, supporting a partner through this transition, or walking

alongside someone on a fertility or maternal journey, I encourage you to start the conversation early—about mental health, advocacy, support, and what safety looks like for you.

Ask questions. Learn your body. Share language with your partner. Seek support before things feel overwhelming.

And if you are a provider, friend, or loved one: listen deeply. Believe women. Create space for

preparation that honors both joy and risk.

Maternal awareness begins long before labor—and it continues long after delivery. We all have a role in making sure mothers are seen, heard, and supported every step of the way.

<3 Ashley