SAN DIEGO (KGTV) — Nikki Helms sat relaxed on the sofa near the entrance of her birth center, just a laptop on her knees.
Through the door, rays of sunlight fall in. She seems grounded—at peace with herself. And perhaps that’s why she’s living her dream.
Five years ago, the midwife opened her own birth center in Bankers Hill. Her mission: to support minority communities.
“That was the mission back then—that marginalized people could have access to a birth center through insurance," Helms said. And she feels she accomplished that. Today, most insurance plans cover care at her center, she tells me.
Without insurance, the service costs approximately $9,500.
Many birth centers struggle financially, but one of Nikki’s achievements is simply that hers is still open.
@abc10news Nikki Helms is a Black midwife advocating for the rights of minority women. At her birth center in Bankers Hill, all women are welcome — but especially marginalized women find a place where they feel seen and heard. Nikki has been working as a midwife for a long time, but every birth is still special. ABC 10 News reporter and Arthur F. Burns fellow Marco Karp accompanied her on a busy workday, speaking with her, new mothers and a woman preparing to go into labor.
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Celeste and Joao walked, carrying their 3-month-old newborn in for an appointment.
“He’s got so much black hair, and he’s gained a lot of weight,” Helms laughed, embracing them warmly.
During their appointment, Nikki asked about how things have been going and whether the family needs any support.
Celeste and Joao chose the birth center for their pre and postnatal care. While they delivered in a hospital, they found the personalized support they needed here.
“When I was thinking about giving birth, it was about where I feel comfortable and safe—where my voice is heard and I’m not just another patient,” says Celeste, while Joao stood beside her, cradling their baby.
Creating intimacy, a sense of community and support—that is what Helms wants to achieve.
“That was the mission back then—that marginalized people could have access to a birth center through insurance,” she repeated.
Much of her work is observation and giving information—especially since some clients find themselves unexpectedly navigating birth without much prior planning.
“We tell you where your baby is positioned in your body, what you might be feeling. Like, ‘Oh, I’ve got a foot in my ribs.’ We can feel it and say, ‘Yes, you do,’” Helms explained.
In another room, Ashley was preparing for labor. It’s her fourth pregnancy, but this time, she’s chosen a birth center.
“I’m enjoying the intimacy with the midwife, not being checked on constantly. And I like the idea of going home soon after having the baby," she said.
For Helms, birth is a natural process; it doesn’t have to be made too complicated.
"We don't treat high-risk pregnancies here," she said. “The woman is delivering—the midwives are just the catchers.”
Moments later, a colleague called her into another room. She’s busy all day, but never seems stressed.
Still, there are moments of reflection—like when Nikki looks at the wall in the birth center, where names of Black women who lost their lives during childbirth are written.
“Black people should feel that they’re not at risk when doing something as natural as having a baby,” she said.
Maternal mortality rates in the U.S. are still higher than in other industrialized nations—and significantly higher for Black women. Helms believes her birth center has made a difference.
“When you’re a Black woman seeking care from a Black midwife, there’s a cultural commonality that improves outcomes," she said.
She recalls that five years ago, only four Black midwives were practicing in San Diego. In Sept. 2025, that number has grown.
There are now more midwives from diverse cultural backgrounds serving the area.
Helms has answers to many questions—but there was one she couldn't quite respond to: Is there one birth that stands out to her?
“Every birth has its own special experience. What impacts me most is how a person feels in the moment right after," she said.
Celeste and Joao left the birth center. There were warm embraces for the farewell, and once again, the sunlight falls through the open door — ready to let in the next expecting or new mother.
