Passion project

Despite achieving global fame as a model in the 90s, Christy Turlington Burns always knew she wanted to contribute meaningfully to the lives of others. Now celebrating the 10th anniversary of the Every Mother Counts foundation, she recounts the path to he

every detail of my pregnancy with my first child, Grace, even now, 16 years later. While I felt incredibly informed and prepared for each phase of it, the only part I wasn’t as informed about was the immediate postpartum period, which, due to complications, turned out to be the stage that could have cost me my life.

Labour started very early the day Grace was born, and once my husband and I arrived at the hospital, things seemed to move fairly quickly. I recall the many sensations I experienced throughout my labour and the subtle and constant changes that came like waves until my baby was in my arms. Of course, that’s when the endorphins kicked in, but then things started to shift.

Concern grew when I had still not delivered my placenta and it turned out I was suffering a sometimes very serious complication known as postpartum hemorrhage (PPH). The massive blood loss that occurs with PPH can cause a dangerous drop in blood pressure and, if not treated quickly, can lead to shock and death. In fact, PPH is one of the leading causes of maternal mortality globally. For me, without time to prepare and without pain medication, it was horribly painful and I lost litres of blood. Afterwards, though, once out of danger, I went back to feeling like a warrior for my efforts.

In those early days after giving birth, I shared my story with friends and learnt that I wasn’t alone. I started thinking about all the women around the world who don’t have access to the support I had, and I knew that some day I would do something to help those women.

It wasn’t until two years later, pregnant with my son Finn, that my determination was reignited. During a trip to my mother’s home country, El Salvador, with CARE (a humanitarian organisation that provides disaster relief to areas in crisis), I met other mothers who were receiving basic antenatal support. These women were living in tin-roofed dwellings far from paved roads and without toilets and transportation. I imagined that had I given birth there that first time, I might not have survived. It was this realisation that brought me closer to a place where I knew how I could make myself useful.

I told CARE I wanted to focus on maternal health and they offered to share more about their global efforts in that area. Eventually this led to another trip to Peru. CARE had reduced maternal mortality by 50 per cent in less than five years in the Ayacucho region in the highlands. When I visited there and learnt how they did this, I was inspired to make a documentary film, No Woman, No Cry. I also decided to pursue a master of public health, as it seemed like the best way to expedite my knowledge and ability to advocate well enough to make a deeper impact. So, in 2008, I started my studies at Columbia University, along with the production of my documentary.

I CLEARLY RECALL

I did not set out to create a foundation. But No Woman, No Cry seemed to naturally lead to the birth of Every Mother Counts, the non-profit organisation I founded in 2010 dedicated to making pregnancy and childbirth safe for every mother. Initially, it started as an awareness campaign to educate the public about a global tragedy – most people don’t know that women still die in childbirth, let alone that the estimated number is more than 300,000 globally each year. But knowing about a problem isn’t enough. The goal was to engage people and to provide opportunities for more of us to participate in finding and scaling the solutions to address them.

I always hoped I would be able to contribute to society in a meaningful way, and my life’s path feels pretty natural to me, actually. My mother was always active in our community as a volunteer, so had set a great example, and continued her education after her kids left home, which motivated me to do the same, only sooner. We are very close; she’s more like a sister to me. My father passed away nearly 22 years ago from lung cancer, and my first work in public health was after he died. I learned quickly that I had a story and perspective that could help others through loss and in dealing with addiction.

As Every Mother Counts approaches its 10th year I am in awe of just how much we have been able to do through our investments in community-led programs and in partnership with so many stakeholders. I have had some great people by my side at every stage of building this organisation and am today surrounded by an incredible team of capable and passionate humans.

I didn’t set out to do all that we have done and have surprised myself and exceeded the expectations I had. I am more tenacious than I thought I was, and with hard work, dedication and lots of trial and error I’ve become an expert in my field. As my team and I look forward, we remain steadfast in our commitment to ensure quality and respectful maternity care for all.

As for my children, they have travelled with me throughout the years and have been surrounded by this work since they were small. My kids are also my teachers. Now teenagers, they are teaching me about boundaries and independence in this age, which is vastly different than the time of my youth. They are smart, funny, curious, kind and, thankfully, they are healthy. That’s all I hoped for, really.

What I know about women is that we are resilient. We have to be. Mothers the world over all care about the same things. We simply want to protect our families, to provide the basic human essentials like shelter, food and access to health care and education. Even when we can’t share language we can relate to these unifying principles. That’s the most beautiful thing about motherhood for me.

For more information, go to everymothercounts.org.

“What I know about women is that we are resilient. We have to be. Mothers the world over all care about the same things”