Every Mother Counts


I love what Christy Turlington is doing with Every Mother Counts.  I was thrilled to cheer her on in the Boston Marathon a week ago, and I wear my own EMC shirt with pride (see above, June 2014).  It’s a totally random coincidence, but I’ve also been particularly aware of Christy ever since she and I both had first-born daughters named Grace within a year of each other.

I’ve written about Grace’s birth some, though mostly I’ve written about the deep postpartum depression that swamped me after she arrived. The process of Grace’s birth, in particular its immediate aftermath, makes me care deeply about Every Mother Counts.  Because had I been a mother in a third world country, I would probably have died after delivering Grace.  After a long and intense labor (posterior baby, anyone?  my midwife, who had been delivering babies for decades, told me after that it was one of the most difficult labors she’d experienced) I hemorrhaged.  They gave me pitocin.  I was fine (albeit unhapppy to have the drugs I’d tried so desperately to avoid coursing through my system).

It wouldn’t have been that easy had I been delivering somewhere else.  I am grateful that western medical care was there to intervene when I needed it.  I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about that moment (I mostly think about the 43 hours that led up to it!) but whenever I hear anything about Every Mother Counts, that simple act of putting an IV into my arm comes immediately to mind.  It’s not rocket science, and it was simple that morning. But it saved my life, and I’m aware that that intervention is unavailable to hundreds of women, whose birth outcomes would have been entirely different from mine.

The statistics are appalling.  303,000 women die every year from complications in pregnancy or birth.  These deaths are tragic, and they have a ripple effect too: they leave an average of 4 orphans.  In the United States the picture is better, but not as good as it could be: we rank 60th worldwide in terms of maternal health, and 2 women die per day in childbirth or pregnancy.  Every Mother Counts has a tremendously compelling call to action: 99% of these deaths are preventable.

I adore what Every Mother Counts stands for, and I also love the way that running has become a focus of what they do.  The movie Every Mile, Every Mother (which I was fortunate enough to see in New York a couple of years ago) really highlights this connection, as did cheering Christy on in the Boston Marathon.  The metaphors abound: motherhood is a marathon, of course, and by putting one foot in front of the other we can achieve our goals both large and small.  It’s a mental game as much as a physical one, and it’s about commitment.

It’s impossible me to think about Every Mother Counts without reflecting on my own birth experiences.  I imagine most women who’ve given birth recall those life-altering hours regularly.  I know I do. I was stubborn in my pursuit of an unmedicated delivery; I recognize that, and know that I could easily have wound up with a different kind of experience. People ask me regularly (still!) why I chose to go that route, and I don’t have a good answer other than to say I had a deep, instinctive desire to do it that way.  And I’m glad I did: Grace and Whit’s births are without question the two most empowering experiences of my life. They shaped who I am and I’ll never forget anything about those passages, when I touched another world, felt something holy both holy and primal.  And I’m hugely aware that it was the medical support I received after Grace’s birth that allowed the story to have a happy ending.  The care was so simple, and I think it saved my life. Every mother should have access this.

I’m not affiliated with Every Mother Counts and nobody asked me to write this post.  I was inspired to do because of my particular interest in and passion for the cause. 

Get Lindsey's thoughts on mindful living and parenting in your inbox


  1. Posted April 26, 2016 at 3:13 pm | Permalink

    Lindsey, I never heard of Every Mother Counts (!) before and am so glad to know about it now. The fascinating thing is, I’m pretty sure Christy Turlington delivered her babies (one or both, unclear) with my midwife Barbara Sellars in NYC. Like you, I was determined to have a natural birth for a variety of reasons – and I remember feeling kind of surprised, and a little defensive, when so many questioned my choice, some insinuating it was pointless. “It’s like not taking aspirin when you have a headache” kind of argument which is ridiculous. Anyhow, I had an incredible natural birth experience (luckily short, only 7 hours!) but afterwards I also hemorrhaged and was given a life saving dose of pitocin (a drug I also wanted to avoid, but wasn’t fazed by it afterward). For my son, we reminded Barbara during labor, and they had a shot ready to go for after the birth. It’s horrifying to think that a simple intervention could save so many lives, and I applaud Christy for helping to make this happen. Thank you for letting me know about it, and sharing your story.

  2. Posted May 15, 2016 at 7:10 am | Permalink

    Thanks for raising awareness about this important work! I am with you 100%. Every mother deserves to be empowered to make her own evidence-based decisions before, during, and after birth. Midwifery matters.

One Trackback

  1. By Both holy and primal | tree and apple on April 25, 2016 at 10:17 am

    […] – See more at: http://www.adesignsovast.com/2016/04/every-mother-counts/#sthash.AsKQ8Ojt.dpuf […]