The way we speak about birth shapes how we experience it, how we remember it, and how we internalize our power. One phrase that keeps showing up—one that subtly, but powerfully, strips us of the recognition we deserve—is this:

"My doctor/midwife delivered my baby."

Hold up. Who was doing the work? Who was in the birth room, breathing, pushing, surrendering, and ascending through the labour/birth portal? You.

You Gave Birth. No One Delivered Your baby but you.
Whether you birthed vaginally or by cesarean, you delivered your baby into this world—not your OB, not your midwife, not the nurse, not the person catching your baby. They may have supported, guided, had a part in, or even recommended life-saving decisions—but they did not birth your baby.

This distinction matters because words matter.

The language of "having someone deliver your baby" disarms you of the sheer effort, endurance, and transformation that birth demands. It turns you into a passive recipient rather than the active, powerful force that you were—whether you were pushing with everything you had or lying on an OR table as your body was opened with precision and care.

Where Did This Come From? How Society Shaped This Narrative
For generations, birth has been spoken about in a way that removes the power from the birthing person. In many cultures, birth was once a communal, supported event where the birthing person was centered and honoured for their role in bringing life into the world. But with the medicalization of birth—particularly in Western society—came a shift in perspective.

Suddenly, birth was something to be managed rather than experienced. The role of the doctor became central, and the language followed suit. Instead of giving birth, people were suddenly delivered of their babies, as if they were passive participants, as if their bodies had little to do with the process.

This shift in language has real consequences. When we frame birth as something that is done to us rather than by us, it changes how we feel about our own role in the process. It makes people doubt their abilities, their instincts, their innate power. It contributes to the loss of confidence in physiological birth and fosters a reliance on external authority rather than personal knowing.

The Power in Owning Your Birth
Reclaiming your role in birth isn’t about diminishing medical professionals or birth support. It’s about ensuring that your experience is spoken about in a way that honours you—your body, your mind, your choices, your resilience.

Because when we say "my doctor delivered my baby," we unconsciously hand over the credit. We accept the narrative that birth is something that happens to us rather than something we do.

Instead, let’s say:

✨ "I birthed my baby, with the support of my midwife."
✨ "I had a cesarean birth and I brought my baby into the world in the best way for us."
✨ "I gave birth, and my team was incredible."

See the difference? One acknowledges that birth is an act of will, strength, and love. The other erases it.

A Shift in Language, A Shift in Power
Language isn’t just words—it’s how we frame our experiences, how we integrate them into our sense of self. And in birth, where emotions run deep and the experience is life-altering, the words we use matter more than we often realize.

When we change the way we speak about birth, we change the way we feel about it. We reinforce the reality that giving birth is an achievement, that it takes strength and presence, that no matter how it happens, it belongs to the person who did it.

So let’s start correcting the narrative, for ourselves, for our children, and for the generations to come.

Because the truth is this...

YOU delivered your baby.
YOU did the work.
YOU brought life into this world.
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And that? That’s worth owning.