A Mother Was Born: Katrina George’s Advocacy Journey As A Midwife And A Mother

Motherhood has a way of revealing strength you didn’t know you’d need, or already had. For Katrina George, that truth first took shape in the delivery room, during the birth of her son, Rouvin. A midwife by training, Katrina had spent years helping other women trust their bodies, advocate for themselves, and move through birth with confidence and agency. When she became a mother herself, she experienced that same power firsthand: a moment she later captured in her poem, “A Mother Was Born,” included at the end of this piece.

That sense of embodied strength would soon be tested in new and unexpected ways. When Rouvin was diagnosed with Rubinstein-Taybi syndrome, a rare genetic condition that affects growth and development, Katrina found herself navigating a healthcare and education system that too often centers providers over patients and systems over families. Drawing on both her professional expertise and her lived experience as a mother, Katrina stepped into advocacy in its most personal form: fighting for her son to be seen, supported, and treated with dignity.

Katrina first developed her advocacy skills in her profession as a midwife, and she chose this path so she could empower her patients to advocate for themselves and trust their own bodies.

 “To me, the best midwife is the midwife who actually knows when to do nothing, knows when not to intervene,” Katrina said. “Only after I’ve truly understood my patient’s values, motivating factors, and barriers, could I then use my medical expertise to provide them with options that meet their needs.”

One obstacle she sees in the healthcare system is the focus on what she describes as “provider-centered care” rather than “patient-centered” care. She is mindful about the type of language she uses with fellow providers and in patient documentation. 

“Everything has to be intentional,” she said. “We can’t use words like high risk. We can’t say patient declines or patient refuses, like everything that we do needs to be intentional.”

When Rouvin was born and started exhibiting developmental delays that eventually led to the Rubenstein Tavy diagnosis, Katrina became an advocate for not only her patients but also herself and her family.

According to the National Organization of Rare Disorders, Rubenstein-Taybi  is characterized by growth delays, distinctive facial features, developmental delays and intellectual disability (with an average IQ of 25-79). Management of the condition involves regular medical evaluations including kidney, heart, vision and hearing as well as speech and behavioral therapy.

Katrina said Rouvin is on a higher functioning end of the Rubenstein-Taybi spectrum and can walk and eat independently and is relatively healthy. However, he still has delays in speech and fine motor skills

“He’s doing really well,” she said. “He doesn’t have any other problems beyond that. And so we feel very fortunate.”

Rouvin still sees doctors, speech therapists and occupational therapists for his challenges, and Katrina and her husband have often had to educate them on Rubenstein-Taybi.

“Most providers and doctors that you speak to will never have heard of it or taken care of that condition, and so most of the time, we end up having to be the ones to educate providers on it,” Katrina said. 

However, Katrina’s advocacy would be truly put to the test when it came to Rouvin’s education. 

When Katrina and her husband initially shared the diagnosis with Rouvin’s school, the head of the school was initially sympathetic. 

“[The Academy Director] gave me her deepest sympathies and then told me everything was going to be okay,” Katrina said.

A few days later, however, the school notified Katrina and her husband that Rouvin would be expelled because they “didn’t have the resources” to handle Rouvin’s needs. 

“Nothing in his care was going to change due to receiving a name for his differences. Without a doubt, he was discriminated against because of his diagnosis,” Katrina said.

While she and her husband were furious and  it took them a long time to find a new school, Katrina worked tirelessly with Rouvin on all of this therapy at home. The progress he made in this period was a silver lining in this tough situation. 

“He made such amazing progress during this timeframe that made us feel like he was right where he needed to be,” Katrina said.

Now, Katrina said Rouvin is happy and thriving in a new school geared towards special needs children with teachers who have embraced him. 

Katrina said she feels that her emphasis on patient-centered care and her belief that individuals are experts in themselves helped her confidently advocate for Rouvin because she actively sought out providers who would follow those values.

“My belief in this idealistic patient-provider relationship helped me seek providers who would listen humbly, partner with us in the decision making process, and would most importantly, respect when we chose to do something differently than what they might have chosen to do for their family,” Katrina said. 

Her advice to other parents:

“You don’t need a medical degree, you just need a provider who engages in patient-centered communication,” Katrina said.

I wasn’t hoping to be induced, but pregnancy is a humbling experience.

I look in the mirror and take a deep cleansing breath after my last contraction.

I look a hot mess, but I’m proud of myself and at peace with whatever happens next.

I’m so tired, and feel intense rectal and sacral discomfort.

I am not innately bearing down, but I yearn for the opportunity.

I laid back in bed and said, “please call the midwife, I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.”

And in that moment I thought of the many clients who asked for me to come to the bedside at

this very crossroad.

And so she did.

And to my delight, by son was ready for his sunrise.

Stretch marks across my upper thighs once met with scorn,

Would be the guardrails from which I would place my hands as I birthed him into existence

Each stripe was war paint etched into my skin to remind me that I was a tigress and a warrior.

Each line would fade but remain a symbol of my perseverance as I navigated uncharted

territory.

For I would learn that this was just the beginning of when my strength would be tested

And every sound made on that momentous day, was not one of agony, but of power.

Like the roar of a lioness as she announced her presence, telling all that a young king would be

born.

So that all would gather around to meet him and support her.

The river that flowed from my eyes at the sight of him would wash me clean of all that I had

endured while forming him in my womb.

My breasts enlarged and would be the fruit from which he was nourished

My hair grew long and plentiful, illustrating how he nourished me.

And when it began to fall out months later, I was reminded that everything has a season.

New rolls like dough illustrated that I too was being reshaped with the malleability of 24k gold

And so I’ve worn Motherhood around my neck like Slick Rick’s chain

Because…I am…so…fucking…fabulous

He did not “wreck” me, he made me whole

I am not yet where I want to be, but I am the best version of me.

Truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing

After all, today was the birth of a mother

And yet…he doesn’t seem to notice

So I will look at myself through the loving unadulterated eyes of my son,

and know that I am enough

…more than enough

And I will never be the same

But I will continue to be better

In all the ways that matter

Happy Birthday to Me.