Introducing Expecting Evidence: The Blog That Transforms How You Approach Pregnancy and Birth Advice
Last summer, my partner Jonathan and I decided to have a baby. We’d been together since our early twenties, testing our relationship (with great results!) through five university degrees, cross-country and international moves, and all the other chaos life throws at you. By then, Jonathan had landed a permanent job, and I was making real strides in building my doula business.
We hadn’t always talked about starting a family (to be honest, those university degrees ate up a lot of brain space). But somewhere along the way, it began to feel like the right step for us. With my 35th birthday just two years away and the realization that life would never feel perfectly “ready,” we decided it was time. I stopped taking birth control for the first time in 14 years, and we entered the wonderfully ambiguous phase of “not-not-trying.”
Of course, our version of “not-not-trying” looked a little different than it might for the average North American couple. My academic background is in reproductive and medical anthropology, which means I’ve been studying how people across cultures understand fertility, pregnancy, birth, and postpartum since I was 19. On top of that, I’m a birth and postpartum doula, guiding and supporting people through the very journey Jonathan and I were about to embark on.
With all that experience, you might think I had it all figured out—that the process would be simple for me. One of my friends even joked, “You probably already know everything!” But as it turns out, it wasn’t my knowledge about pregnancy and birth that made the difference—it was my research skills.
As an anthropologist, I’ve spent years reading research articles across different fields, digging into how data connects to lived experiences. And while I don’t run statistical analyses myself, I’ve learned how to understand them—because to grasp the full picture, you need to connect the dots between what the numbers say and what those numbers mean for real people.
But even with all my training, I couldn’t escape one universal truth about pregnancy: the sheer overload of information out there. Pregnant people are absolutely inundated with advice, recommendations, and opinions. And not all of it is good. In fact, a lot of it isn’t even true.
Some of the noise is downright absurd. Some sound convincing on the surface but crumble under scrutiny. And some of the worst offenders are people or accounts claiming to be “evidence-based” while misinterpreting or misrepresenting the evidence entirely.
Here’s an example: A few weeks ago, a doula friend sent me a social media post claiming that Pitocin (synthetic oxytocin used during labor) causes bipolar disorder in babies. The post even cited a peer-reviewed journal article to back up its claim.
Here’s the thing: the article did find a relationship between Pitocin use and bipolar disorder. But in the world of research, a relationship does not equal causation. There are layers of nuance, limitations, and variables that need to be understood before drawing any conclusions—and that nuance often gets completely lost on social media.
The reality is that many people sharing pregnancy and birth advice online don’t have the training to evaluate the research they’re referencing. They’re often caught in the same echo chamber as their audience, sharing information without fully understanding it.
When I found myself navigating the chaos of advice, I turned to what I knew best: my research skills. I opened my laptop, dove into the data, and started making sense of it all—not just for myself, but for my clients, too. I broke down social media claims, decoded YouTube videos, and translated research findings into clear, actionable insights.
And that’s why I created this blog: for you, my friend. To share those same skills and tools with you.
There are fantastic books (like Expecting Better by Emily Oster) and podcasts (like Evidence-Based Birth) that explain what the research says on many pregnancy and birth topics. But here’s the thing—this blog isn’t just about giving you the answers. It’s about helping you learn how to find, understand, and evaluate those answers for yourself.
Here, you’ll find evidence that busts harmful myths (like “you’re spoiling your baby” or “epidurals are evil”), clear explanations for navigating tricky questions, and guidance on cutting through the noise of bad advice and social media trolls.
Over the next six months (because that’s as far as I’ve planned so far!), we’ll dig into the research and build our research skills. Together, we’ll navigate the contradictions and overwhelm, week by week.
And while my first pregnancy didn’t end the way I hoped—I miscarried—it was my understanding of the evidence that helped me process it. I knew that most first-trimester miscarriages are caused by chromosomal issues (translation: it wasn’t my fault) and that up to 1 in 5 pregnancies end in miscarriage (translation: I wasn’t alone). That knowledge didn’t erase all the fear and pain, but it gave me tools to navigate those emotions with clarity and confidence.
That’s what I want for you: the confidence to know that no matter what happens on this journey, you’re making the best choices for you and your family.
It’s time to cut through the noise. Relax, my friend—I’ve got you. Let’s figure this out together.