When we talk about safety in pregnancy and birth, we often talk about risk.
Blood pressure. Blood tests. Scans. Monitoring. Growth. Guidelines. Risk assessments. Protocols.
And of course, these things have their place. Good maternity care needs clinical knowledge, careful observation and the ability to recognise when something needs more support or a different level of care.
But I think there is another part of safety that can sometimes get lost.
The safety of being known.
The feeling of being able to exhale because the person caring for you knows your history, understands what matters to you, notices when something is different and has been there long enough to understand the bigger picture.
For me, this is one of the most important things about independent midwifery.
Safety is more than watching for what might go wrong
Pregnancy care naturally involves looking for potential problems. That is part of good midwifery.
But when maternity care becomes heavily centred around risk, it can sometimes leave women feeling as though pregnancy is a series of things that need to be checked, ruled out or managed.
Are you low risk or high risk?
Is your baby measuring correctly?
Is your blood pressure still okay?
Has something changed since your last appointment?
Those questions can be clinically important. But pregnancy is also a time when you are getting to know your baby, learning to trust your body and beginning to find your feet as a mother.
There needs to be room for that too.
And there is something quite different about being cared for by someone who knows you rather than repeatedly having to introduce yourself, explain your history and start from the beginning.
NICE guidance itself recognises the value of continuity of carer, describing it as a way of developing a trusting relationship between a woman and the healthcare professional caring for her.
That relationship isn't an extra.
It is part of the care.
Perhaps we need to rethink what we mean by risk
There is some really interesting research emerging around this.
A 2026 integrative review by Melamed and colleagues looked at the way antenatal risk assessment and classification is used within UK maternity care. The review looked at 16 papers published between 2000 and 2025, considering the effectiveness, justification and impact of the ways we currently assess and classify risk during pregnancy.
What they found is worth paying attention to.
The authors questioned whether the way we currently assess and categorise risk is always doing what we think it is doing.
Antenatal risk assessment is supposed to help identify women and babies who may benefit from additional monitoring, treatment or a different level of care. But when the evidence behind a particular risk factor is uncertain, when there isn't a clear treatment that improves the outcome, or when several different risks need to be balanced against one another, things become much more complicated.
A woman can very quickly move from being a healthy pregnant woman to being labelled “high risk”.
And that label can change the care she is offered.
It can mean more appointments, more surveillance, more intervention and sometimes being directed away from midwifery-led care or the place of birth she had hoped for.
Melamed and colleagues found that many of the antenatal risk assessments they reviewed did not clearly demonstrate improved outcomes. They also found concerns around inconclusive tests, a lack of available treatment options and the way potential benefits and harms were communicated to women. The review concludes that some risk assessment processes may themselves create physical and emotional iatrogenic harm.
The authors aren't suggesting that we stop assessing risk.
Instead, they argue for a different way of thinking about it: a more biopsychosocial and relational approach which takes into account the woman as a whole, including her social circumstances, values, experiences and individual context. They suggest this could be more personalised, culturally sensitive and women-centred, while also supporting safer care.
This really resonates with how I think about midwifery.
Risk is important.
I don't believe in ignoring it, and I don't think a woman should ever be reassured simply because she desperately wants everything to be normal.
But I also don't believe that a risk factor tells us everything we need to know about a woman.
There is a difference between having a risk factor and being a risky person.
There is a difference between a statistical association in a population and what that statistic means for the individual woman sitting in front of me.
And there is a difference between identifying a possible risk and automatically assuming that more intervention is always the answer.
This is where relationship becomes so important.
When I know a woman well, I am not assessing her from a checklist alone. I have the opportunity to understand the whole picture.
Her previous births.
Her health.
Her family circumstances.
Her mental and emotional wellbeing.
What she knows about herself.
What has changed since I last saw her.
What is reassuring.
What isn't.
And, importantly, what she thinks and feels about the situation too.
You can't understand the whole picture of someone you barely know.
Your nervous system matters too
Birth is not something that happens to an isolated body.
We bring our experiences, our expectations, our relationships and our environment with us into the room.
When we feel frightened, watched, rushed or unheard, it can be much harder to settle. When we feel familiar, supported and able to relax, we may find it easier to stay connected with what our body is doing.
Hormones such as oxytocin and adrenaline are involved in labour, and the environment around a woman can influence how she experiences and responds to labour.
This doesn't mean that feeling calm guarantees an uncomplicated birth, or that a difficult birth means a woman wasn't relaxed enough. Birth is far too complex for that.
It simply means that how we feel matters.
And that is one of the reasons I care so much about the relationship built during pregnancy, long before labour begins.
What does continuity actually give you?
Continuity can sound like a lovely idea, but in practice it is very ordinary, very human things.
It means your midwife knows that you don't like being rushed.
She knows about the birth you had before.
She remembers the things you were worried about at your last appointment.
She knows what you are hoping for, what you are unsure about and what matters to you.
She knows what is normal for you.
And because she knows you, she can notice when something doesn't quite fit.
That is something I think is often overlooked when we talk about continuity as simply being about having a familiar face.
Knowing someone makes it easier to notice change.
It also means that if something unexpected does arise, you are not suddenly having to build trust with a stranger at the exact moment you need it most.
Connection and clinical safety belong together
There can sometimes be a false divide between relationship-based care and clinical care, as though you have to choose between the two.
I don't see it that way.
A good independent midwife needs to be clinically skilled and able to recognise when pregnancy or birth is moving outside the range of normal. She also needs to know when another opinion, investigation or transfer of care is appropriate.
Connection strengthens that work.
The 2024 Cochrane review of midwife continuity of care included 17 studies and more than 18,500 women. Women receiving continuity models were more likely to have a spontaneous vaginal birth, less likely to have a caesarean or instrumental birth, and generally reported more positive experiences during pregnancy, birth and the postnatal period. The researchers also noted that much of the evidence came from women who were at lower risk at the beginning of pregnancy, so it is important not to overstate what the evidence tells us about every pregnancy.
That is quite a beautiful thing to me.
The relationship isn't competing with safety.
The relationship is part of what helps good care happen.
Being known changes the experience of pregnancy
One of the things families often tell me they value most about independent midwifery is simply having time.
Time to ask the question they have been wondering about for three weeks.
Time to talk through a previous birth.
Time to look at what a test or result actually means.
Time to think about where they want to give birth.
Time to talk about something that doesn't fit neatly into a ten-minute appointment.
Sometimes we talk about birth for an hour.
Sometimes we talk about feeding.
Sometimes we talk about a baby's position.
Sometimes we talk about fear.
Sometimes we talk about something completely unexpected.
That is the nature of relationship-based care. You don't have to squeeze yourself into a particular shape to fit the appointment.
Connection becomes especially important when things change
I don't offer independent midwifery because I believe that everything can always be kept physiological or that medical care is somehow the enemy.
Quite the opposite.
Pregnancy and birth can change direction. Sometimes unexpectedly.
Plans change. Babies need help. Women need help. Transfer happens. Induction becomes the right choice. Caesarean birth becomes necessary.
When that happens, having someone who already knows you can be incredibly valuable.
You don't suddenly become a different person because your birth takes a different path.
You are still you.
Your previous experiences still matter. Your hopes still matter. Your questions still matter. Your need to understand what is happening still matters.
For me, continuity is just as important when things become complicated as it is when everything is unfolding beautifully.
Homebirth and the feeling of being held
For many of the families I work with, the appeal of homebirth is partly about the environment.
Being somewhere familiar.
Moving freely.
Having your own food and your own bathroom.
Being surrounded by the people you have chosen.
Not having to get in a car while you are in labour.
But I think there is something deeper too.
For some women, home is where their nervous system finally gets to soften.
And when you combine that environment with a midwife you already know and trust, there can be a very different quality to the experience.
This doesn't mean homebirth is right for everyone, and it doesn't mean that a homebirth will always stay at home. NICE currently recommends that all four planned birth settings, including home and midwifery-led units, should be available within local or neighbouring maternity networks, with clear pathways for transfer when needed.
A change of plan isn't a failure.
Sometimes the safest place for a birth is somewhere other than home.
What matters to me is that the woman is cared for as a whole person throughout that journey.
The wider maternity system is changing
There is an interesting tension in maternity care at the moment.
We have an increasingly detailed understanding of risk, screening and clinical safety, while at the same time there is strong evidence supporting continuity of midwife care and the importance of relationships.
NICE recommends that those providing antenatal care should aim to provide continuity of carer.
NHS England has also recognised continuity of carer as an important part of maternity transformation, describing it as care based on a relationship of mutual trust and respect between women and their midwives.
And yet continuity can still be difficult to access in a stretched maternity system.
That is one of the reasons independent midwifery exists.
Not because women don't need clinical care.
Not because protocols are always wrong.
But because sometimes you want something alongside all of that which is much harder to create in a busy system:
time, familiarity, relationship and trust.
What safety feels like
I think about this a lot.
Safety isn't pretending there is no risk.
There is always some uncertainty in birth. We can assess risk, prepare carefully and respond to what is happening, but we cannot remove every unknown.
For me, safety is knowing that the person caring for you is paying attention.
It is being able to ask the question you are slightly embarrassed to ask.
It is knowing that your midwife will tell you honestly when she is concerned.
It is knowing that she will also tell you when things are going well.
It is being able to say, “This doesn't feel right,” and knowing that your words will be listened to.
It is having enough time to understand what is happening before deciding what comes next.
And sometimes it is simply the quiet reassurance of looking across the room during labour and seeing a familiar face.
That matters.
Why this is at the heart of my work
For many families, that means planning a homebirth with a midwife they already know and trust.
For others, it might mean having personalised antenatal and postnatal care, a birth preparation consultation, or support to work through a particular decision or previous birth experience.
The shape of the care can vary.
The relationship is the constant.
I want the women I care for to feel that there is space for them here.
Space to ask questions.
Space to change their mind.
Space to be uncertain.
Space to be completely themselves.
And space to be cared for with both clinical skill and humanity.
Because birth isn't a test of how well you follow a protocol.
It is one of the most significant experiences of your life.
And I believe you deserve to feel known while you are living it.
Further reading
Melamed et al. (2026), Antenatal risk assessment and classification in maternity care: An integrative review
A recent review looking critically at how antenatal risk is assessed and classified within UK maternity care, and exploring the potential of more relational and biopsychosocial approaches. Read the full paper
Cochrane (2024), Midwife continuity of care models versus other models of care
A review of the evidence around continuity of midwifery care and its effects on outcomes and women's experiences.
NICE, Antenatal care
Current guidance around antenatal care, including continuity of carer and personalised care.
NICE, Intrapartum care
Guidance covering planned place of birth, including homebirth and midwifery-led settings.