Honoring Black Maternal Health Week: Centering Black Mamas, Birthing People, and Communities
Every year from April 11th to 17th, we observe Black Maternal Health Week (BMHW)—a time dedicated to uplifting the voices, stories, and experiences of Black birthing people, and to shining a light on the systemic injustices that continue to impact our communities.
This week isn’t just about awareness—it’s about truth-telling, healing, community, and radical change.
At The Village Doula Collective, this week is personal. As a doula, I walk alongside families navigating a system that too often fails them. But aside from being a birthworker, I’ve been a pregnant woman of color (WOC) —sifting through terrifying statistics and trying to make sense of how to protect myself and my baby. Black Maternal Health Week hits home because I lived that fear.
How Black Maternal Health Week Began
Black Maternal Health Week was founded in 2018 by the Black Mamas Matter Alliance (BMMA)—a national organization that works to advance Black maternal health, rights, and justice. Co-founded by Angela Doyinsola Aina and Elizabeth Dawes Gay, BMMA grew out of a 2013 collaboration between the Center for Reproductive Rights and SisterSong Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective.
This week was created in response to a heartbreaking reality: in the United States, Black women are three to four times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women. This is not because of biology. It’s because of racism—structural, systemic, and persistent.
My Story: Why This Week Hits Home
When I became pregnant with my first child, I was excited—but I was also afraid. Like many women of color, I’d already seen the data. I knew the numbers, knew the names of Black mothers who didn’t make it home. And even with all my knowledge, all my resources, all my preparation, all of my experience in births—I felt vulnerable.
I remember lying awake so many nights, thinking: What if I’m not believed? What if something goes wrong and they don’t take me seriously? What if I become a statistic? This was heightened when I was diagnosed with pre eclampsia during both of my pregnancies. I knew too well how quickly things could go downhill and I feared my condition wouldn’t be taken seriously. I am grateful to have been under the care of an OBGYN who was adamant that I share any and everything I was feeling and I did feel heard. But I know this is often not the case for so many WOC.
Those personal fears and my fear for other mothers haunted me. They still do. That fear isn’t irrational—it’s rooted in truth. It’s backed by generations of systemic mistreatment and neglect.
But it was that fear that continues to fuel this work.
I became a doula to help change those odds—not just for myself, but for other Black birthing people. I wanted to be the kind of support I wish I’d had in those uncertain moments. I wanted to build something that centers care, compassion, and cultural understanding. I want to support birthing people through an intersectional lens- acknowledging their risks and helping them feel prepared and supported active participants in their experiences.
What We’re Up Against
The Black maternal health crisis is ongoing:
Black birthing people are more likely to experience complications like hemorrhage, preeclampsia, and preterm birth.
They are more likely to be dismissed by medical professionals when they report symptoms or pain.
They are less likely to receive respectful, culturally competent care.
These disparities don’t disappear with income or education. Even Black women of high socioeconomic status, like Serena Williams and Beyoncé have shared their traumatic birth experiences—proof that medical racism doesn’t discriminate by class.
What We’re Doing at The Village Doula Collective
At The Village Doula Collective, we are rewriting the narrative. We’re not just offering services—we’re offering safety, community, and radical love.
We provide:
Prenatal visits that empower and educate
Labor support rooted in advocacy and consent
Postpartum care that honors the healing process
Full-spectrum support regardless of income—we proudly accept Medi-Cal and Partnership HealthPlan of California
Our care is culturally competent, trauma-informed, and affirming. And yes, it’s personal.
Because I’ve been the scared woman of color in the waiting room. I’ve been the one holding my breath, praying I’d be heard. And now, I’m the one making sure other women don’t have to face these experiences unprepared and alone.
How You Can Take Action
You don’t have to be a doula to make a difference. Here’s how you can support Black Maternal Health Week:
Educate yourself about Black maternal health at blackmamasmatter.org
Listen to and uplift Black mothers and birthing people
Support Black-led organizations and birthworkers
Advocate for policy change at local and national levels
Share resources, stories, and calls to action in your community and on social media
A Vision for the Future
Imagine a world where Black mothers are not just surviving, but thriving. Where our births are safe, our voices are valued, and our babies are welcomed into the world with peace. Where we aren’t focused on just surviving the perinatal experience, but focused on the physical and mental transformations that are about to take place.
That’s the world I’m working for. That’s the world I want for my children—and yours.
This Black Maternal Health Week, let’s grieve, let’s fight, let’s build, and let’s dream together.
With love, solidarity, and a fire in my belly,
Sydney
Founder, The Village Doula Collective
