This past May, I set foot in the country of Lesotho for the first time. The primary purpose of my visit was to research women’s and children’s health for my master’s thesis. Yet, at my core, I was itching to simply immerse myself in this culture, learn everything I could, and talk to women about their lives, their families, and how their health played into all of it. A few months later, I came back to the States with stacks of interview notes, hard data, and too many stories to share with you today. However, what I truly gained was unexpected: the understanding that quality and accessible maternal health care is a vital component of a healthy society, yet in many parts of the world, its absence remains.

My journal in hand, I set out each morning to interview women about their health and what, if any, obstacles they faced in accessing the care they needed. As they graciously welcomed me and all of my questions into their round, thatch-roofed huts, I learned that reality was harsh for many of these women. During my interviews, I found that the majority of mothers reported having given birth at home, rather than at a hospital, for their most recent pregnancy. This would leave them without access to emergency care should an unforeseen complication arise. The more I interviewed, the deeper I delved into the multiple factors contributing to this situation that sadly made many women associate childbirth with the notions of fear, suffering, and uncertainty.

This troubled me at the time and it still does. No woman should fear giving birth because she won’t have access to emergency services if something goes wrong. According to the WHO, in 2010, approximately 287,000 women died from causes related to pregnancy and childbirth. Many more experience complications that often go untreated. Obstetric fistula, for example, remains among the most common of these complications. Women who suffer an obstetric fistula are furthermore often socially ostracized, impeding their ability to work, care for their children, or contribute to their communities. And yet, almost 99% of maternal deaths are occurring in developing countries, telling us that this problem is preventable.

I miss my time in Lesotho; the friends I made there, and the mothers I interviewed. But what saddens me more, is when, every once in a while, I imagine myself starting a family of my own. I think about the care I’ll receive that many of the women I met in Lesotho did not. It makes me think: there must be more we can do. I am writing on this blog today in the hope that I can inspire you to join me in this belief, and furthermore, in the realization that this is not an isolated problem. What impacts mothers, also affects children, families, communities, and nations. I support the efforts of Operation Fistula so that women everywhere will one day associate childbirth, not with fear and suffering, but rather with joy and hope.