A pregnant mother describes how love turned into control, while researchers warn the risk of abuse spikes when a baby is on the way.
When Evie chose a baby monitor that streamed video to her phone, she imagined a simple way to keep an eye on her unborn child. Instead, the device became a weapon of surveillance in a relationship that grew increasingly hostile as her pregnancy progressed.
The monitor, once a symbol of peace of mind, was turned over to her partner, who insisted on watching her every move around the house.
A personal account: the monitor that turned into surveillance
Evie recalled the moment her partner demanded the monitor, describing it as “he used it as surveillance.” The device, intended to let her hear a heartbeat, soon delivered a constant visual feed for an abuser who was already tightening his grip.
By the seventh month, arguments escalated into physical violence. While the couple lay in bed, an argument turned brutal; he delivered two rapid punches that felt like “whiplash,” then knelt over her, crushing her belly with his knees. The assault ended with an apologetic embrace, claims of anxiety, and promises that it would never happen again.
Statistics reveal pregnancy as a high-risk period
Authorities estimate that 30% of domestic abuse incidents in England and Wales begin during pregnancy a figure likely understated due to under-reporting. Research from the For Baby’s Sake Trust indicates that roughly 20,000 disclosures reach maternity services each year. Refuge’s senior manager, Elaha Walizadeh, notes that 14% of its service users reported being pregnant between 2024-2025, but stresses this is merely the “tip of the iceberg.” Many healthcare professionals still lack the training to spot early signs, leaving countless survivors invisible.
Expert analysis: why control spikes when a baby arrives
Dr Panos Vythoulkas, a perinatal clinical psychologist, explains that a baby introduces a third party whose needs can feel threatening to an abuser’s sense of authority. The partner may view the pregnancy as a lever for financial, emotional and physical control fearing loss of dominance. Dr Jill Domoney adds that some perpetrators wrestle with conflicted ideas of masculinity—being the provider while feeling vulnerable—often rooted in strained relationships with their own fathers.
Riley’s story mirrors Evie’s: after a brief long-distance romance, her boyfriend demanded a video-recorded pregnancy test, questioned paternity, and began invading her privacy. He would appear at odd hours, brand her with insults, and eventually wielded threats involving a pan of boiling water. The escalation culminated in severe physical abuse, including strangulation and rape, leading to his conviction. Both narratives highlight a pattern where the unborn child becomes a focal point for jealousy, resentment, and heightened possessiveness.
Beyond immediate harm, perinatal abuse can have lasting consequences for children. Refuge reports cases of newborns sustaining brain injuries, while some survivors notice later-life developmental challenges such as ADHD in their children. The MBRRACE Confidential Enquiry found that domestic abuse was documented in 43% of maternal deaths within the first post-natal year, and a Byline Times investigation recorded at least 223 pregnancy losses linked to abuse between 2017-2021.
Evie’s post-birth experience was marked by profound emptiness, guilt, and suicidal thoughts. She described feeling as though “my body kept going while I was dead,” and admitted to using alcohol to numb the pain. Such mental-health fallout underscores the need for routine screening and specialised support during and after pregnancy.
Both organisations, For Baby’s Sake and Refuge, urge continual training for midwives, obstetricians and primary-care staff. Early identification can break the cycle before fear immobilises survivors. As Evie reflects, “by the time you realise how dangerous it is, it’s often too risky to leave.”
