More than 60 percent of preventable maternal deaths and 45 percent of newborn deaths take place in countries affected by recent conflict, natural disaster, or both. Yet as Sarah B. Barnes, Project Director of the Maternal Health Initiative, observed at a recent event hosted by the Wilson Center and UNFPA, in collaboration with the Inter-agency Working Group on Reproductive Health in Crisis (IAWG) and White Ribbon Alliance, “the leading causes of both maternal and newborn death occurring in humanitarian settings are considered to be preventable if managed by skilled providers and adequate resources.”

“Building strong and inclusive partnerships for maternal, newborn, child health, and family planning programs is not future work,” said Dr. Koki Agarwal, Director of USAID’s MOMENTUM Country and Global Leadership at a recent Wilson Center event. “It’s urgent and it’s ‘right now’ work.”

This exploration of country perspectives and expertise on improving maternal, newborn, child, and adolescent health and family planning programs was the third event in a series that placed regional experiences and voices in the foreground.

I knew from a young age that I saw myself differently from the way others perceived me. Just as quickly as I noticed this difference, I also learned about the unforeseen complications of being different.

The infant formula shortage and the COVID-19 pandemic have added fuel to an already existing fire in maternal mental health in the United States.

As Adrienne Griffen, Executive Director of Maternal Mental Health Leadership Alliance pointed out at a recent event on the COVID-19 pandemic, maternal mental health, and policy solutions, “maternal mental health conditions, including anxiety, depression, and other issues, affect 1 in 5 pregnant or postpartum people [in the U.S.].”

Reducing maternal mortality is key to promoting population health. It is also a main priority of the UN General Assembly’s Sustainable Development Goals. And the reasons for concern are clear. Globally, 800 women and 6,500 infants die during pregnancy and birth every day. More than 94 percent of these deaths occur in low-and-middle-income countries (LMICs).

Many researchers have documented the impact of the Global Gag Rule (GGR) around the world—and what happens when the policy is in place. “But we don’t know enough about what happens when the policy is revoked,” said Bergen Cooper, Director of Policy Research at Fòs Feminista at the launch of the organization’s new report, Chaos Continues: The 2021 Revocation of the Global Gag Rule and The Need for Permanent Repeal.

It was time to take a stand. That’s the conclusion Sharon Day, an Ojibwe and Two-Spirit elder, came to after hearing that the Minnesota Department of Transportation intended to transform Hiawatha Avenue into Highway 55, linking the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport with downtown Minneapolis. The proposed expansion, Day worried, could pollute Coldwater Spring, a natural spring that both Dakota and Ojibwe people consider sacred and of immense cultural significance.

Every month, young women and girls in the villages of Nepal make their way into makeshift huts where they will reside for the week until their menstruation has finished. Some of them will turn to nearby sheds whereas others will travel through dense forests to reach these huts. Venomous snake bites, asphyxiation, and rape are just a few of the harsh realities of living in these poorly ventilated and weakly protected menstrual huts. This practice of self-isolation called “chhaupadi” is an ancient tradition of “untouchability” rooted in the belief that menstruation is sinful and impure. Considered bringers of misfortune, menstruating girls and women are forbidden from taking part in any household, religious, and social activities under this tradition, forcing them to distance themselves from their family and community during this time. Although chhaupadi seems like an extreme case or isolated custom, it actually represents a common global issue—menstrual stigma.