A Father's Touch: How I Found My Place in Maternity Care

The first time I assisted a mother in labor, my hands trembled—not from fear, but from the weight of the moment. I was a man, stepping into a space traditionally reserved for women. “Can he do it?” someone had whispered earlier, a question that echoed the doubts I carried myself.

But that night, amidst the soft cries of pain and the encouraging voices of the medical team, I discovered something remarkable.

The Unexpected Journey

Growing up, I never imagined I’d find myself in maternity care. My dreams were like those of many boys—action-packed and far removed from diapers and delivery rooms. But life has a way of surprising us.

It began with a friend’s casual suggestion: “Why don’t you try midwifery? You’re compassionate and good at calming people.” At first, I laughed it off. Midwifery? Me? But as I researched more about the field, something clicked. This wasn’t just about delivering babies; it was about being there for people during one of the most vulnerable and miraculous moments of their lives.

Stepping into the Delivery Room

On my first day in the delivery ward, I felt out of place. The women in the room glanced at me cautiously, their eyes asking questions I didn’t know how to answer. Then came Fatima, a young mother in labor, who became my first real patient.

Her contractions were intense, and she gripped the bed rails, tears streaming down her face. “You’ll be okay,” I whispered, unsure if my words carried any weight. To my surprise, she nodded and squeezed my hand.

As hours turned into moments of triumph, I found myself holding her newborn baby, overwhelmed by the beauty of life. Fatima’s gratitude as she held her child told me something I had not realized before: I belonged here.

Breaking Stereotypes, One Baby at a Time

In the weeks and months that followed, I encountered many skeptics. Some patients outright refused my care. “You’re a man; you can’t understand what I’m going through,” one woman said. I respected her wishes, but it stung.

Instead of letting rejection define me, I focused on the patients who gave me a chance. With each successful delivery and each grateful smile, I built my confidence. I learned to listen more, to anticipate needs, and to bring comfort where I could. Slowly, perceptions began to change.

A Moment That Changed Everything

The turning point came with a father-to-be named Adamu. Unlike many others, he stayed by his wife’s side throughout her labor. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, panicking as the contractions intensified.

“Hold her hand,” I told him. “She just needs to know you’re there.”

Hours later, when their baby arrived, Adamu looked at me with tears in his eyes. “Thank you for showing me how to be there for her,” he said. That moment wasn’t just about delivering a baby—it was about bringing a family closer together.

Redefining Maternity Care

Today, I stand tall as a male midwife-in-training, knowing I’ve found my calling. I’ve learned that maternity care isn’t about gender—it’s about heart. Each patient I care for reminds me that empathy and skill are universal, and every new life I help bring into the world is a testament to the power of compassion.

So, if you ever doubt whether men belong in maternity care, think of the fathers who find their voice, the mothers who feel supported, and the babies who arrive into hands full of love—regardless of whose hands they are.