I’m a student midwife – we need to talk about health inequality
Yahoo News – Insights speaks directly to the people with an inside track on the big issues. Here, Taiwo Adegbola reveals the state of maternity care for women.
Taiwo Adegbola, 26, is a third-year student midwife whose unexpected passion for midwifery emerged from personal experiences and has been driven by her commitment to improving maternal care, particularly for Black and ethnic minority women.
A recent review from the Care Quality Commission highlighted issues with maternity care from understaffing and a lack of equipment to evidence of discrimination against women of colour.
As a Black woman, I’m especially committed to addressing the disparities in maternal care for women from ethnic minority backgrounds. The statistics are stark: Black women are nearly four times more likely to die during or after pregnancy compared to white women, and Asian women face twice the risk. This reality drives me every day. It’s not just about being a midwife—it’s about being part of the solution.
My passion for midwifery began unexpectedly during the COVID-19 pandemic when I supported a close friend through her pregnancy. The gaps in care were striking – shortages of beds, a lack of continuity with midwives, and limited postnatal mental health support. Then in 2021, while working with The Girls’ Network, I attended a presentation on maternal healthcare disparities. Learning about the risks that Black women face during pregnancy was a turning point.
Today, I’m studying for a BSc in Midwifery, due to complete in March 2025. As a student midwife, I witness these issues firsthand – how the system fails some women, especially those from ethnic minorities.
In my dissertation, I’m focusing on promoting culturally sensitive training for maternity staff. I’ve seen how rigid healthcare guidelines can overlook important cultural practices. In Muslim families, for example, the Adhan (Islamic call to prayer) is whispered into the baby’s ear after birth. In other faiths, holy water is placed in the baby’s mouth.
Yet these traditions are often ignored, creating a disconnect between care providers and the families they serve. I remember one family asking to put holy water on their baby’s lips, but it wasn’t encouraged. That experience stayed with me – it reinforced how much more we need to do to respect and accommodate diverse cultural practices in maternity care.
These small gestures matter. Simple things like male staff announcing themselves before entering a room give women, especially in cultures that prioritise modesty, the chance to prepare. These small acts of respect can make a huge difference in the overall care experience, and I want to be part of that change.
As midwives, we are also acutely aware of the mental health challenges women face postpartum. Suicide is the leading cause of direct maternal death between six weeks and 12 months after birth, accounting for 39% of these deaths.
For Black and ethnically diverse mothers, the pressures are compounded by cultural expectations and the stigma surrounding mental health. Many new mothers hesitate to seek help, and as a result, postpartum depression and anxiety often go untreated. We need more training, more awareness, and better support to address these disparities and offer culturally sensitive care.
Being a midwife is incredibly rewarding, but it’s also incredibly challenging. The NHS is under immense strain, and the impact is felt in maternity wards. We’re seeing overcrowded wards, limited resources, and staff shortages that make it difficult to meet the needs of the women we care for. Midwives and nurses are expected to go above and beyond every day, often sacrificing their own wellbeing. Skipping meals and breaks to care for patients has become routine. Burnout is real, and it’s hitting harder than ever.
Read more: Maternity failings uncovered within NHS in England are 'widespread' says health watchdog
I’m not great at planning my meals, but I try to grab something during a break because you never know what the shift will bring. Most days begin with a handover, where we’re briefed on the previous shift and assigned patients. But things can change in an instant. A woman might start bleeding heavily, or a baby could be born struggling to breathe. You don’t think about your own needs – you think about keeping the mother and baby safe.
As a student midwife, I’ve often skipped breaks without even realising it – especially if my mentor didn’t take one either. Over the course of three years, as student midwives we are required to assist in at least 40 deliveries, and I never want to miss a learning opportunity. But it’s more than that. When you’re caring for a mother and her baby, the responsibility pushes your own needs aside. By the end of the shift, exhaustion hits, and I realise I haven’t eaten or taken a break. The question is, how long can midwives and nurses keep this up?
Retention is another major issue. Many midwives are leaving the NHS, seeking better working conditions abroad in countries like Australia and New Zealand, where the work-life balance is far better. Here in Britain, we’re still dealing with overcrowded wards and limited resources. Women are anxious, and midwives share their concerns. It’s incredibly stressful when we can’t meet their needs quickly, especially when time is critical in maternity care.
The previous government’s refusal to adequately increase pay left many nurses and midwives feeling undervalued, leading to early retirements or departures. The COVID-19 pandemic pushed many of us to the brink.
Nurses were isolated from their families, witnessing traumatic events, and experiencing what we call "compassion fatigue". I’m relieved that the government has finally increased pay, but it’s still not enough. The raise is marginal and doesn’t fully reflect the level of skill and responsibility we carry, nor does it address the bigger issues of retention and staffing shortages.
Despite all these challenges, I remain hopeful. I believe in the future of midwifery and in the new generation of midwives, many of whom are driven by a passion for advocacy. There’s also potential in technology, particularly the digitisation of records, which can ease some of the pressure on staff by improving efficiency and early detection of issues.
Midwifery isn’t just a career for me – it’s a calling to drive change in maternal care, ensuring every mother, especially those from marginalised communities, receives the care, safety, and dignity she deserves.
*As told to Rabina Khan