Black maternal health means navigating a broken system. But there is hope

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/apr/17/maternal-deaths-us-black-women

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Too often, healthcare ignores our pain and fails to value our lives. But communities are banding together to meet our needs

Maternal deaths have recently dropped in the US – that is, unless you’re Black.

Black women continue to face the highest rates of maternal mortality in our country. To be Black, pregnant and hopeful in the US is to hold on to life with a fierce and unyielding grip against devastating odds.

Black women are navigating pregnancies in a healthcare system that too often ignores our pain, dismisses our concerns, fails to value our lives and underserves us throughout the entire journey to motherhood. As we mark Black maternal health week, the path to becoming a mom remains fraught with pain points for Black women.

For too many Black women, the journey to motherhood may start with dismissive doctors and racially motivated mistreatment: a soon-to-be mother’s voice is silenced in the very spaces meant to protect her health. The experience of giving birth is compounded by systemic inequities that compromise her safety and dignity. Stillbirth and miscarriage rates remain disproportionately high due to inadequate prenatal support, while unequal pain treatment leaves Black mothers suffering in silence – ignored or under-treated. A heightened tendency for unnecessary C-sections reflects deep-rooted biases in medical decision-making, exacerbated by implicit racial bias.

When the baby is born, the postpartum period is often marked by systemic gaps in care that leave Black women vulnerable to physical, emotional and financial strain. Limited access to postpartum mental health support means many struggle with anxiety and depression without adequate professional guidance, worsening the already heightened maternal mortality rates among Black women. The absence of comprehensive postpartum resources leaves Black mothers navigating recovery, newborn care and maternal health largely on their own, reinforcing a cycle of isolation and inequity.

It takes a village to raise a child – and to protect an expecting mother. So while we’ve heard many grim stories through our research at the health advocacy organization United States of Care, we’ve also heard stories of communities banding together to meet the needs of Black women and mothers. Across the country, community-based maternal health organizations are building capacity and cultural responsiveness in maternal healthcare that offers what I like to call “bright spots”. These bright spots are not just exceptions, but blueprints for the rest of the country.

An expecting mother may turn to culturally aligned healthcare providers who offer specialized care, fostering a deep sense of trust, support and security for both her and her baby. Doulas can improve her experience by providing personalized care that is tailored to her and guides her through the pregnancy journey. Additionally, telehealth like the Maven Clinic and Pomelo Care can promote racially concordant care, provide access to interdisciplinary care teams, and bridge access to care gaps. And tech innovations the Irth app, a “Yelp-like” app that offers provider reviews from Black and brown women, can empower her to make informed decisions about her care.

When the baby arrives, she may reach out to organizations focused on addressing maternal mental health, like the Houston-based Shades of Blue Project, which offers structured journaling support groups for Black women and aims to decrease the stigma related to seeking mental health treatment. She may seek a doula or lactation consultant that supports her with her breastfeeding challenges or access local programs like Breastfeeding Awareness and Empowerment Café, a Philadelphia-based community lactation and perinatal mental health support program that is replicable, scalable, peer-driven and low-barrier intervention that has the potential to improve outcomes.

In countless neighborhoods across the US, community organizations on and offline are creating lifelines for Black women where our healthcare system falls short. These local efforts provide a national model of cultural responsiveness, holistic care and trust building that we hope to see innovators, policymakers and leaders across the country adopt. As we recognize these local initiatives, it’s important to consider what sustains them: strong community ties, committed leadership and diverse funding streams. Maternal health solutions must happen both at the bedside and in the halls of power: more policymakers, philanthropists and healthcare institutions must step forward to invest in these models, scaling them while preserving their community-driven success.

Black maternal health is about more than survival; it’s about thriving. It’s about empowering Black mothers to experience joy in their pregnancies, to be supported from preconception all the way through postpartum, and to raise their families in a world that values their lives. Let these bright spots serve as both inspiration and a guide.

It’s time for Black women to be listened to, cared for and treated with the dignity we’ve always deserved. We can build a future where the health and wellbeing of Black mothers is no longer an anomaly but a standard.

Venice Haynes is a social and behavioral scientist with more than 17 years of public health experience. She is the senior director of research and community engagement for United States of Care

Venice Haynes is a social and behavioral scientist with more than 17 years of public health experience. She is the senior director of research and community engagement for United States of Care