18/07/2025
Such empowering words from our friend in perinatal practice Carla Anderson 😇
THIS IS BIRTH – THIS IS MY BIRTH, AND MY WORK.
Birth Trauma Australia’s campaign theme highlights:
“Every journey through birth is different. Some feel empowered, others are overwhelming or upsetting. Many are a mix of both. Birth trauma can be physical, emotional, or both. This week invites parents and health professionals to reflect on their experiences because when we share honest stories, we help others feel safe to share too. We change how people think about, talk about, and support birth.”
This is where my journey as both a parent and a perinatal psychologist began, 25 years ago. This photo shows me trying to smile. I felt so blessed to hold my beautiful daughter. But I was completely broken. I was 20, married, a planned pregnancy, and had graduated from my first psychology degree. I did antenatal classes, I read the books, but nothing prepared me for the range of dismissive, judgmental, and minimising experiences I would face across pregnancy, birth, and postpartum on top of the extended physical recovery I would face.
MY BIRTH;
🔹 My labour was long, I asked for pain relief --> I was dismissed repeatedly.
🔹I was repeatedly told I was “failing to progress”—> I heard I am failing.
🔹 When I eventually received pain relief it wasn’t working both in labour and when being stitched --> I wasn’t believed.
🔹I had physical injuries --> not acknowledged.
THIS WAS MY BIRTH…..But not my only trauma. It began in pregnancy and continued postnatally. It is important to acknowledge contributing factors, dismissal and language contributed to my trauma:
🔹 “You aren’t old enough to have a baby.” “You are just a young mum adjusting.” “You need to stay for mothercraft issues”
→ I heard: You don’t know how to parent.
But my baby was screaming, projectile vomiting. She was in pain. I knew it. No one listened. Then she was admitted to hospital with an ulcerated oesophagus after four months of this.
🔹 “There are too many bugs, you must keep going.”
→ I wanted to stop breastfeeding because we were both distressed, I was told I’d make her sick if I did.
🔹”You look like a beached whale” as I lay on a treatment table while pregnant. → I heard: you look disgusting.
🔹 “There’s always someone worse off.”
→ I was still in pain at six months postpartum. Still asking for help. Still being dismissed.
Back then though this wasn’t called Birth Trauma, there was also no reference to perinatal anxiety, pregnancy anxiety, trauma-informed care, or respectful maternity care. We only really talked about postnatal depression. Nor did we talk much about the impact on the infant.
Despite all of this there was a TURNING POINT;
It was one GP who changed everything. She listened. She didn’t dismiss me. She saw me. She referred me to a PND support group, a wonderful paediatrician and a beautiful child health nurse. She was able to make warm referrals to people she knew understood. She would become my main support through my subsequent pregnancies.
She said:
“One day, when you get through this, you are going to help so many other mums.”
She was right.......
🧡 The support group I joined led me to later become a peer support worker and group facilitator.
🧡 I trained in perinatal and infant mental health and loss. I built a perinatal practice. I started giving families the kind of care I didn’t receive.
🧡 I’ve been able to share my lived experience so others don’t feel alone and can see that you can get through this.
🧡 I started training healthcare professionals in building their skills and confidence in supporting families.
🧡 And I’ve been able to continue all of this across two decades.
Even so, I didn’t name my story Birth Trauma until much later.
Then, 22 years later, when my daughter was pregnant, it all came flooding back. This time, I wasn’t the pregnant mother or psychologist. I was the support person, the mother watching her daughter go through this too, the grandparent terrified for my grandchild. Her story is not mine to tell, but she experienced a traumatic pregnancy and birth. I did all I could to advocate for her, to ensure she felt informed, held, and heard when others weren’t listening, and I pushed hard until someone listened. It was still traumatic, but the difference was her feeling supported and informed.
This is why I do what I do. To support parents and their infants, to feel heard, held, validated and not alone. And to support healthcare professionals in supporting parents and infants, to equip them, to offer the kind of training that helps them feel more confident. To ensure families feel safe, respected, and seen, no matter what the birth experience was. Because respectful, trauma-informed care matters, for both the wellbeing of parents and infants, as well as that of the healthcare professionals working in this space.
If you would like to know more feel free to reach out.
