World Refugee Day: The Refugee Birth Experience
What Does It Mean to Welcome New Life While Searching for Home?
One of the things birthwork has taught me is that humans need surprisingly little in order to feel safe– especially during birth.
A reassuring voice, a familiar touch, a strong, calm presence…someone who sees them and reminds them that they’re not alone.
As we approach World Refugee Day (June 20), I find myself thinking about the concept of safety quite a bit.
It might be easy for a lot of us to imagine leaving behind “material” things like a house, city or even a country but it’s much harder to imagine everything that made a place feel like home- especially when the choice to stay no longer feels viable.
The language you grew up speaking.
The smells that greeted you in the morning.
The people who knew your story before you had to explain it.
And yet, for millions of people around the world, this is not imagination. It is reality.
Somewhere right now, a mother is preparing to give birth in a place she never expected to call home. Somewhere right now, a family is navigating a healthcare system they don’t fully understand, in a language they may still be learning. Somewhere right now, parents are welcoming a baby while carrying grief for the people and places they left behind.
Rethinking What Safety Means
As birthworkers, we often talk about creating safety. But what does safety actually mean?
The longer I do this work, the more convinced I become that safety is about far more than physical surroundings.
Safety is feeling seen.
Safety is having your questions answered with patience.
Safety is being treated with dignity.
Safety is knowing that your fears won’t be dismissed.
Safety is being able to bring your whole self into the room.
Safety is where your nervous system can fully relax, and trust can take precedence over all other emotions…
When someone has experienced displacement, uncertainty, or loss, those things matter even more.
And while World Refugee Day asks us to reflect on the experiences of refugees around the globe, I think it also asks us to reflect on ourselves:
- How do we respond when someone’s story is different from our own?
- Do we approach with curiosity or assumptions?
- Do we make space for cultural traditions that are unfamiliar to us?
- Do we recognize that resilience and hardship often coexist?
Birthworkers are in a unique position because we meet people during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives. We are invited into stories that are still unfolding. Stories of migration, loss, rebuilding…stories of hope.
And perhaps that is why refugee stories feel so connected to birth- both involve leaving one world behind and entering another. Both require courage. Both require support. Both ask us to step forward into uncertainty without knowing exactly what comes next.
Refugee Birth Experience: Birth, Trust, and Starting Over
I often say that birth is a radical act of surrender and trust.
In many ways, so is starting over.
So today, on World Refugee Day, I am thinking about the families who are building new lives while welcoming new babies The parents trying to create a sense of home for their children while still searching for it themselves. The communities that continue to open their doors and make room at the table.
And the reminder that all of us, regardless of where we were born or where we live now, share a common responsibility: to treat one another with dignity.
Every family deserves to feel safe. Every parent deserves to feel supported. And every baby deserves to enter a world that recognizes their humanity from the very beginning.
Perhaps that is the lesson at the heart of both birthwork and World Refugee Day.
That home is not always a place. Sometimes, home is found in belonging. Sometimes, home is found in community.
And sometimes, home begins with the simple act of being welcomed.
Author: Asma Rahman, DSI Instructor, Certified Birth & Postpartum Doula
About the Author: Asma Rahman
DSI Instructor, Certified Birth & Postpartum Doula
Asma is a DSC Instructor and Certified Birth & Postpartum Doula, as well as a proud visible Muslim woman, activist, and mother of three. Passionate about accessible and faith-based birthwork, her approach is rooted in community care, advocacy, and anti-racism.