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Fear of giving birth. Fear of tearing. Fear of dying. Fear of losing control. Fear of being a burden. Fear of how we’ll look. Fear of repercussions. Fear of interventions. Fear there won’t be enough  interventions. Fear of not following the protocol. Fear of harming the baby. Fear of trusting one’s body.  Fear of fear. Never in recent human history has the act of giving birth been surrounded by so much anxiety. What was once a process deeply rooted in physiology and the intuitive wisdom of bodies has now become a minefield of doubts and procedures. This fear is omnipresent—from the birthing person to the professionals who accompany them. It seeps into hospital walls, into medical discourse, and into parental choices. Behind every decision (induction, epidural, cesarean, newborn separation…) often hides a fear—more than an actual need. Fetal Monitoring – Royalty-Free Image And this fear is not neutral. It is the product of a system. Of a world that, in its desire to make birth ever safer, has gradually sanitized, controlled, and standardized it. A world that, in its pursuit of mastery, has forgotten that giving birth is not merely a sequence of medical acts. It is a human, sensory, intimate experience—one that requires time, trust, and presence. But how can we grant that time and presence when everything moves so fast, when staff are overwhelmed, when protocols and constraints take precedence? How can one trust oneself, one’s body, and one’s baby when everything around suggests that birth is a risk to manage rather than a profoundly transformative event to live through? This climate of fear creates a vicious cycle. Fear brings tension. Tension increases pain. Pain intensifies fear (Dick-Read, 1933). Quickly, the birthing person feels overwhelmed, powerless, disconnected from their inner resources. They doubt. They surrender to others and, in that often unintentional abdication of power, may lose a precious part of themselves. This is not about rejecting medicine. It’s about questioning, remembering that behind every protocol, there is a human being. Fear of Giving Birth - Medical Environment – Photo Credit: Odile Finck-Beccafico Behind every birth, there is a story. And to give birth differently, we must also learn to unlearn—to face and befriend our fears instead of letting them steer the experience. It’s time to give back to birth what has been taken from it: its sovereignty, its slowness, its raw beauty, and above all, its trust. And you—what fears live or have lived within you when thinking about birth? Whether you’re a father, a mother or a parent, dare to share your expérience, so together we can transform the story of birth itself. Water Birth - Royalty-Free Image To dive deeper into it If you’d like to dive deeper into this topic, we’ve gathered a few resources to help you explore and reflect further: Audent, M. (édition 2014). Le bébé est un mammifère . Éditions L'Instant Présent. Rivard, A. (2014) Histoire de l'accouchement dans un Québec moderne.  Les éditions du remue-ménage St-Amant, Stéphanie. (2013) « Déconstruire l'accouchement : épistémologie de la naissance, entre expérience féminine, phénomène biologique et praxis technomédicale ». Thèse. Doctorat en sémiologie. Université du Québec à Montréal Dick-Read, G.(2013) Childbirth without Fear: The Principles and Practice of Natural Childbirth . Pinter & Martin Ltd. Histoire des mères et de la maternité en Occident. (2 e  éd.). Presses Universitaires de France. Gaskin, I. M. (2011). Birth matters: a midwife's manifesta.  Seven Stories Press 1st ed. Seven Stories Press Hill, M. (2019). Give Birth Like a Feminist. Harper Collins Lebroyer, F. (2011). Pour une naissance sans violence. Points.

Words that can heal or harm I n birth work, every word can be a balm or a wound. As doulas, we carry immense power: the power to name things truthfully, to open space, to include. That power isn’t just in what we say, but also in the silences we choose. We know that every word can feel like an open door or a door slammed shut. Power means responsibility. And in our practice, closing a door can weaken a path to birth. It weakens parenthood. It weakens the path to parenthood. In this blog, I want to share with you why inclusive language is not a linguistic whim, but a vital issue in perinatal care and how, concretely, we can adopt it in our daily practice. When exclusion becomes violence Let me be direct: we need to stop pretending that “pregnant woman” is a neutral term. It isn’t. Every time we settle for it, we erase a whole spectrum of realities. Pregnant people exist. They are cis, trans, non-binary, fluid, queer. They deserve to be seen, respected, and supported without having to re-educate every perinatal professional they meet. Using inclusive language in perinatal care is not about being “woke” or militant. It’s a practice grounded in evidence. Research is clear: when people feel fully recognized, they access care more easily, experience less stress, and build deeper trust with their caregivers. On the flip side, being constantly misgendered or faced with gendered language increases distress and disconnection from care. It’s a form of obstetric violence, subtle, but very real. Misgendering leaves a wound that lingers. " But doesn’t inclusive language erase women? " Let’s be clear: no. Saying “pregnant people” doesn’t erase women, it simply makes space for others too. It’s additive, not subtractive. Social psychology research is unambiguous: exclusive language creates ostracism. Women report feeling less legitimate, less represented. Inclusive language, on the other hand, increases the mental visibility of all groups. Nobody disappears. Using terms like “pregnant people” widens the circle. We don’t erase, we expand. What erases is silence. Five ways to bring inclusivity into your practice Ready to shift the paradigm? Here are five practical steps you can take today, from the simplest to the most committed. 1. Words Use neutral or additive terms: “pregnant people,” “parents,” “support people.” Keep “women” and “mothers” for when it’s accurate and requested. Flexibility is key. The goal isn’t to impose, but to reflect the reality of the person in front of you. 2. Posture Introduce yourself using your pronouns. It makes others feel safer sharing theirs. Ask which words someone uses for their body or their parenting role. This simple gesture communicates: “I see you, and you matter.” 3. Tools Update your website, intake forms, and social media posts. Every word and every image matters. Swap phrases like “supporting expectant moms” for “supporting pregnant people and their families.” Worlds are built in the details. 4. Dialogue Dare to start the conversation with your colleagues. Don’t shy away from asking questions or being corrected. Explain your word choices, cite the research. Change feels normal when it’s explained with clarity and conviction. 5. Formation Invest in your growth. For example, the QAD in collaboration with the The Coalition of LGBT+ Families, is offering a training on September 29th (only in frech). It’s a golden opportunity to go deeper, ask questions, and step out of the fog. Investing in this skill shows that your practice is rooted in dignity and respect. What about you ? What language shapes your practice? Changing the way we speak feels awkward at first. But it’s profoundly liberating for those we support, and for us as doulas who believe birth work should be radically human. Our words give birth too. Let’s make sure they bring into the world safer, fairer realities for everyone. _________ So… What about you? How have you made your practice more inclusive? Share your experience in the comments, I’d love to hear how you’re transforming birth work from the inside out. References Stout, J. G., & Dasgupta, N. (2011). When he doesn’t mean you: Gender-exclusive language as ostracism. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 37(6), 757-769. Harvard University. https://doi.org/10.1177/0146167211406434 Collabra. (2025). Inclusive language and mental representation: Effects of pair forms on gender visibility. Collabra: Psychology, 11(1), 128470. https://online.ucpress.edu/collabra/article/11/1/128470/205959 Pearce, R. (2025). Trans pregnancy and inclusive practice: A guide for perinatal professionals. Routledge. Young, C. (2021, September 24). What “pregnant people” really means. The Atlantic. https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2021/09/pregnant-people-gender-identity/620031/ Brotto, L. A., Chou, A. Y., & Singh, A. A. (2022). Gender inclusivity in women’s health research: A call for an additive approach. BJOG: An International Journal of Obstetrics & Gynaecology, 129(7), 1125-1127. https://med-fom-brotto.sites.olt.ubc.ca/files/2022/06/BJOG-2022-Brotto-Gender-inclusivity-in-women-s-health-research.pdf Pezaro, S. (2025). The harms of sex-based language in perinatal care. Birth: Issues in Perinatal Care, 52(1), 17-25. Wiley Online Library. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/birt.12844