When an elephant gives birth, something spectacular happens: fellow females in the herd get into formation, creating a support network that facilitates the well-being of the mother and the safe shepherding of new life into the world. They surround and protect her by kicking up dirt and soil to throw any predators off the scent. Once the calf is born, they cover it with sand to protect its skin from the sun before breaking into a chorus of celebratory trumpeting.
The female instinct to look out for one another, to guide and protect in moments of vulnerability, is innate: nature as intended. And there are very few times when a woman is more vulnerable, and yet more powerful, than when giving birth.
Historically, pregnancy and childbirth—long seen as a “female mystery”—was a women-only domain. Women would rally around expectant mothers to pass on wisdom and advice, as well as supporting her through the birthing process and assisting her in navigating the challenges of early motherhood. But in the 1700s, with advancing medical science and technology, predominantly male-led medical interventions became the norm and the old midwifery “ways of knowing” were increasingly dismissed as primitive or even superstitious.
Though the medicalisation of birth has saved an immeasurable number of lives—both of newborns and mothers—there has also been a great cost: from the focus on pathology over a woman’s physiology, which has left many women feeling disconnected or powerless in their birthing experiences, to clinical birthing environments designed for the needs of clinicians and medical intervention rather than for the natural events that occur during childbirth.
“It has become the norm
