.png)
“No Woman Should Give Birth Alone”
In a small office in Sarajevo, surrounded by folders of research reports and stacks of women’s handwritten testimonies, Amila Tatarević speaks with the steady conviction of someone who has heard too many stories to ever walk away.
“They talk about feeling like they were in a slaughterhouse,” she says quietly. “Birth should be humane. It should be supported. No woman should give birth alone.”
Amila is the president of Baby Steps, a grassroots organisation that has become one of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s most persistent voices for change. What began as a volunteer-driven support group for new parents has grown into a movement demanding woman-centred care and the right of every woman to have a companion present during childbirth.
It’s a simple idea, backed by global guidance and requiring almost no financial investment. And yet, in Bosnia’s fragmented health system, it has become a battle.
Across most of Bosnia and Herzegovina, the presence of a partner or chosen support person during labour is far from guaranteed. Some hospitals ban all companions entirely. Others permit only the father—and only for the final minutes before the baby is born. Caesarean births offer no possibility of support at all.
Policies can shift overnight. A rise in infections, staffing conflicts, or even personal decisions made by staff on call can end access without warning. Women have been discouraged from asking, told their husbands might faint and that staff “won’t help him if he does.”
Behind these shifting rules, Amila says, is a long-standing misconception about what good practice actually recommends.
“Doctors say companionship is not what their profession advises, but that’s simply not true,” she explains. “The World Health Organization recommends it. Our own national guidelines recommend it. The problem is not the science. The problem is resistance to change.”
If policymakers have been hesitant, women have not. Baby Steps has collected hundreds of birth stories, documented mistreatment, and led research on why women are choosing to have fewer children. One of the most striking findings from a recent study: traumatic childbirth experiences are a major reason women hesitate to expand their families.
And when asked what would make a difference?
“Companionship,” Amila says. “They want someone to hold their hand. Someone they trust. Someone who makes them feel safe.”
Women’s testimonies describe fear, isolation, loss of control, and a sense of being entirely dependent on overstretched or indifferent staff. Some described hospitals as places of humiliation rather than care.
“But when a woman is not alone,” she adds, “everything changes. Obstetric violence decreases. Corruption decreases. Birth trauma decreases. And it costs nothing.”
After years of conversations with hospitals and ministries delivered little change, Baby Steps shifted its approach. If maternity wards would not follow recommendations voluntarily, they would push to make companionship a legal right.
Working with supportive members of Parliament, Amila helped draft a simple amendment to the country’s Law on Patients’ Rights—only a few sentences, but transformative inits implications.
The amendment was submitted in September. In November, Parliament failed to put it on the agenda, missing the required majority by two votes.
Not a single representative who blocked the discussion provided a substantive reason.
“Their only excuse was that they felt ‘excluded’ from earlier conversations,” Amila says. “We sent countless emails, letters, invitations. And even if they hadn’t readanything—how can you vote against something that helps women, costs nothing, and is already recommended by every professional body?”
Public pressure surged after the vote. Women confronted political leaders, media outlets demanded explanations, and those who had opposed the measure were suddenly on the defensive.
Baby Steps is preparing for the next parliamentary session—hopeful, but realistic.
One of the deepest structural problems, Amila argues, lies in how midwives are positioned in the health system. In Bosnia’s hospitals, midwives often function as assistants to doctors, with limited autonomy and little decision-making authority.
“They are not given space to care for women as they are trained to,” she says. “The doctor is always in charge, even when there are no complications. That’s not how maternity care should work.”
Restoring midwives’ autonomy, strengthening their leadership in non-complex birth care, and recognising their role in delivering woman-centred care would transform the childbirth experience—and make companionship far easier to implement.
Midwives, Amila believes, could become some of the strongest allies in the fight for respectful, dignified maternity care.
Despite systemic barriers, Amila continues to draw strength from the small stories—moments where one person’s kindness changed everything for a woman giving birth.
“We’ve heard so many women say, ‘I remember the one midwife, the one nurse, even the one cleaning lady who supported me.’ That one person is remembered for life,” she says. “Everyone working in maternity wards has the power to make a huge difference.”
Baby Steps may be small, but its impact is growing. With every story shared, every woman who speaks up, every parliamentarian questioned, the movement builds momentum.
At the centre is as imple idea: birth should be safe, supportive, and woman-centred—not endured alone.
“In a country struggling with violence against women, trauma in childbirth, and declining birth rates,” Amila says, “ensuring companionship during birth is the least we can do. It’s small for the system—but enormous for the woman.”
