As a Portuguese doula and birth photographer, I have been reflecting on one of the aspects of birth photography that naturally involves respecting the feelings and boundaries of everyone involved concerning sharing these deeply personal moments with others.
At the same time, I also feel a deep desire to share with the world the immense beauty and power of transformation that lies in each image.
Even though every doula and birth photographer works under a code of ethics that I respect—namely, not making choices for our clients or exercising value judgments on their choices—the truth is that both of these professions strive to create more positive birth stories and participate in changing the paradigm around childbirth.
While many women feel empowered by their birth stories and want to inspire others by sharing them, some partners—often fathers—may feel uneasy about exposing such intimate experiences to the public. This hesitation is entirely valid, but it also invites a broader reflection on what this says about how we view birth, the relationship we have with our bodies, and the stories we are still believing in.
Birth is undeniably one of the most intimate and transformative experiences in life – It’s raw, and so it´s vulnerable ( as life is) and profoundly personal.
Yet, it is also inherently natural, primal, and universal.
I have just been thinking that every time we choose to hide it—to shield its beauty and power from being seen—we may be unintentionally reinforcing societal narratives about labor and childbirth being something to be controlled, sanitized, or even hidden.
These narratives are deeply rooted in centuries of shame and discomfort around the body, particularly women’s bodies, and their free expression.
For many, birth triggers a discomfort deeply rooted in our cultural mindset: the lingering notion that bodies are messy, or inappropriate when they express their most primal instincts. A mindset that might mirrors how we see nudity, sexuality, emotions, and even vulnerability in our lives.
Isn´t childbirth, in this sense, a mirror of our collective and individual beliefs about our humaness, about our concept of freedom of expression, of shame, and control.
As said before birth is an intimate moment in time and in that sense is of course entitled to privacy, but the hesitation to share birth imagery has other layers hidden that aren’t just about privacy; it’s also about how we have been conditioned to view these moments.
Many partners and I have to say that from my personal experience, are often men, who feel that sharing it exposes something sacred to judgment or even misunderstanding. And while this protectiveness comes from a place of love, it also reflects how disconnected many of us are from the true naturalness of birth—a disconnection that keeps it relegated to hospital rooms and behind closed doors; and how vulnerable we still are to other people judgments… as if it would matter!
At the same time, we are witnessing a quiet revolution not just in Portugal, but in the world, through the ones that are not just allowing but also proud and happy to share their positive stories.
The stories and images of women birthing at home, in water, or hospital, are slowly but surely changing the narrative. These images are powerful not just because they showcase the beauty of birth but because they challenge the idea that birth can only have a clinical approach, be controlled ( actually it shouldn´t), or be hidden. They remind us that birth can be raw, primal, and deeply connected to our humanity.
What’s more, these shared stories are helping couples make more informed and empowered choices about their own births.
Many women, when planning their births, look to the experiences of others to see what is possible. For those who have only known the medicalized, intervention-heavy approach to birth, having contact with another way—through photos, videos, or shared stories—can be revolutionary. These images become a lifeline, a source of inspiration, and a call to reclaim the natural beauty and strength of birthing.
But this raises an important question: how do we balance the need for privacy with the need for visibility? The answer, perhaps, lies in finding ways to honor both. Sharing birth stories doesn’t have to mean sharing everything. It can mean carefully curating what feels comfortable—images that are powerful but respectful of personal boundaries, or reflections that focus on the emotions and transformations without revealing and identifying details.
Ultimately, the act of sharing birth imagery is about more than just the photos; it’s about changing the mindset. By normalizing the beauty and reality of birth, we help dismantle the shame and fear that surround it. We show that birth is not something to be hidden but something to be celebrated. And in doing so, we offer new possibilities to the families and babies entering this world. This is the way I clearly resonate with – to create new possibilities. Only when we see through our conditioning we open an opportunity to re-start.
Birth is a mirror, not just of our physical bodies but of our mental and emotional landscapes. When we shy away from its rawness, we might also be shying away from our vulnerability, power, and humanity. But when we embrace it—when we allow it to be seen, celebrated, and respected—we create a ripple effect that touches every life it reaches. It’s not just about inspiring other mothers or fathers; it’s about creating a world where birth is seen for what it truly is: a sacred, natural, and transformative act that deserves to be honored and held in its fullest light.
