
// Our story · Est. 2026
A woman's health is not
a series of unrelated events.
It is one long, continuous story — and almost nothing in health technology is built to follow it. That is the gap we started GetMomiCare to close.
2026 · How it started
We kept hearing the same sentence.
“I felt like I was starting from scratch.”
A woman tracks her cycle for years. She decides to try for a baby, and downloads something new. She gets pregnant, and downloads something else. The baby arrives and she starts again — while recovering from major physical events, on almost no sleep, with a newborn in one arm.
Every one of those handovers loses something. Her history. Her patterns. The context that would have made the next piece of advice actually useful. And at each step she hands the most intimate data she has to another company whose business model she has never read.
We started GetMomiCare in 2026 to build the opposite: one companion that stays, learns, and never sells what it learns.
One app, shaped around wherever she is.
She never has to explain which one she is in. She tells us once, and the app becomes that — then changes with her when life does.
Why this, and why now.
Women's health has been under-researched, under-funded and under-built for generations. Around one in five women experience mental health difficulties during pregnancy or in the year after birth. Outcomes still differ sharply by race and by postcode. And in much of the world — including the countries we come from — a routine pregnancy is still not a safe one.
Technology will not fix all of that. But it can stop losing her history, stop speaking to her like a patient file, and stop treating her data as inventory. That much, we can build.
What we hold to
Four things we will not trade away.
Her data is hers
We do not sell health data. Not to advertisers, not to brokers, not to insurers — not ever. It is encrypted, it is hers, and she can delete all of it in one tap. A women's health app that monetises intimate data has already failed the person using it.
One companion, not seven apps
Most apps make her start over every time her life changes — a new download for trying, another for pregnancy, another for the baby. We built one place that changes shape as she does, and carries her history with her.
Warm, and still rigorous
Softness and seriousness are not opposites. It should feel like a friend who happens to be well read — never clinical, never patronising, and never guessing when it matters.
It works when nothing else is
Care does not only happen on fast wifi in a quiet room. GetMomiCare works offline, loads on an older phone, and says things plainly — because the moment she needs it most is rarely the moment everything else is going smoothly.
Who is building it
Two people, one stubborn idea.

Stephanie Peter
Co-founder & CEO
BSc (Hons) Psychology & Counselling
Long before there was an app, Stephanie was the friend people rang at odd hours — the one who took the question seriously instead of saying it was probably nothing. A cousin whose periods had stopped. A friend a year into trying, quietly coming apart. A neighbour three weeks after birth who kept insisting she was fine.
The same thing was true in every one of those conversations: nobody had the whole picture. Each woman had told her story in fragments, to different people, at different times — and no one was holding the thread. She studied psychology and counselling to understand that properly: why women minimise, why they wait, and what the waiting costs them.
In 2022 she started writing down what the alternative would look like. Not a tracker — something that holds the thread. That idea became the spine of GetMomiCare: one place that follows her from her first cycle through trying, pregnancy, recovery and her baby's first year, and never once asks her to start again.
She still shapes the parts that matter most — the questions it asks, the words it chooses, and the moments it knows to say less.

David Daramola
CEO
BEng Computer Engineering · MSc User-Centred Design
David's clearest memory of pregnancy is not a scan photo. It is his mother, heavily pregnant with his youngest sibling, still carrying everything — the house, the other children, the worry, the money — on her shoulders. Nobody asked how she was doing. There was no room in the day for the question.
He watched her fold her own needs away because there was nowhere to put them. That is the thing he builds against now: care that assumes a woman has time, quiet, and someone to ask on her behalf.
His training sits either side of the same problem — computer engineering for how things get built, a master's in user-centred design for who they get built for. Working in the NHS as a support worker, he sees weekly what happens when care is hard to reach, hard to understand, or arrives too late.
So he designs GetMomiCare the way he would want care designed for his mother: plain language, nothing buried, and never a screen that makes a frightened person feel stupid.
In her own words
Some things are better heard than read.
Why we started GetMomiCare
Our film is on its way
We're shooting it now — the story of why we started, in the words of the women it's for.
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Where we are
Early, and building
carefully.
We would rather get a small number of things genuinely right than ship a long feature list that nobody trusts. Everything below is true today — not a roadmap promise.
- Founded
- 2026
- Built for
- Every season
- Health data sold
- None. Ever.
- Works offline
- Yes
If you have ever felt
unheard by your own care —
we built this for you.
We are early, and we would rather build this with women than at them. Tell us what your care got wrong, and we will take it seriously.
Tell us your storyYou deserve
better. So does
your body.
You've been doing it alone long enough. Join over 2,400 women who are tired of being an afterthought in their own healthcare — and are ready for something that actually sees them.