A Different Kind of Fear About Motherhood
Words and image by Coral Dabarera Edelson
I remember when that New York Times article came out, "Why America's Black Mothers and Babies Are in a Life-or-Death Crisis," almost two years ago now. I was planning my wedding, finishing up my master's degree, and completing my dietetic internship. It was an awesome time in my life. But as I read the article, I went into a cold sweat, felt my heart clench up, and my mind drifted into worrying about an uncertain future. As a soon-to-be newlywed, rising maternal mortality in the U.S. suddenly seemed very relevant. As a black biracial woman, learning that specifically black maternal mortality was the reason why it was rising - was frightening and still leaves me breathless when I think about it.
Black people face medical bias and therefore worse health outcomes. This is a fact of my life and the life of my loved ones. It was something that I experienced going to the doctor with my mother as a child, seeing her fear and frustration about the assumption that if any of us kids was hurt, it was due to her negligence (it was not) - and taking my father to the doctor as an adult, watching how easy it is for them to ignore what we say. We're just treated differently and that's life in the U.S. Our experiences, our pain, our understanding of what was happening in our bodies - easily glossed over and ignored. You deal with it how you can and move on with your day.
My parents taught me well. Recognize bias in your life, and deal with it respectfully but head-on. Knowledge was key in my household growing up, it was the armor we dressed ourselves in as well as our weapon. The more we knew about a particular issue, the less likely we would be taken advantage of, or lose an opportunity. We were taught to speak up. Whenever any of us faced anything racist or unfair, my parents were quick to talk it out with my siblings and me and help us to deal with it. The more you knew, the better.
As an adult, I have found that knowledge continues to make me feel safe, especially when it comes to my health. I choose the best doctors I can. Whatever questions I have for my doctor, the possible answers need to be researched in advance of my appointment. I push doctors, ask them where their recommendations are coming from? Are you up to date on the latest research? Any anecdotes from other patients? It makes me feel more in control in areas that I don't completely understand.
But black maternal mortality rates in the U.S. present a challenge that seems insurmountable to me right now. It doesn't seem there is any research or knowledge that I can find that can make us safer. All the information I have just terrifies me:
"Black women are three to four times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women in the US."
"Black infants are more than twice as likely to die as white infants in the US."
"The US is one of few western industrialized countries where maternal mortality is increased from 25 years ago, a figure driven by black maternal mortality."
All of this is likely due to weathering, which is toxic stress that is the result of pervasive institutional racism, including racism within the medical world. Wealth, education, and access to good medical care do not protect black women and their babies, because of the strong effect of weathering.
I was freaking out back then. I was familiar with weathering. I was familiar with bias. But somehow, thinking about all this while getting married seemed different. It felt like not only was this a problem happening nationally, but it could happen TO ME and there are no solutions. There's no way I can be less black to increase my chances of survival.
I have always felt that knowledge is power, but knowing this makes me so, so afraid. And what makes it worse, is that it seems like I can't research my way out of it.
There's no drug, no herb, no treatment, no current evidence-based intervention that I have found that can make me safer. There's just me and my man, our dream of having a family, and our hope that I survive making our dream a reality.
Weathering has a lot to do with stress. So, after freaking out, it was time to calm down. As a health professional, I talk a lot about stress and its effects on one's health, and how important it is to have stress-reducing practices. Yoga, breathing, journaling, therapy. And talking yourself down from panic loops. Well, easier said than done, especially alone.
The unfairness of all this feels like it crushes my heart. And then I think of my sisters, of all the other black women facing these fears, either by worrying over the future or having suffered through the worst. And then that heart-crushing feeling gets even worse. What about all the women who can't afford the doulas, the herbs, the time to shop around for doctors? What are they meant to do? Cue aforementioned panic loop.
It all felt so overwhelming. It still does sometimes.
That was two years ago. Today, the thing that calms my research-loving heart is just that- research – but it's information gathered through connecting with others, hearing their stories and life experiences. It's sharing the fear and letting others' positive experiences allow hope to have a bigger space than fear.
These days, I have support. I have a sister circle, a group of black women to meet up with to talk over these kinds of things. And I feel less alone. The feeling of community really helps me live with this big fear in my heart.
I don't know if me or my baby will survive childbirth. But that's life, there are so many unknowns. I do know that I have the support of friends and family, however much research I will amass before and during pregnancy (between myself and my husband, I'm sure it will be a lot), and my own strength and grit to rely on. I hope that one day my lived experience of successful birth will be another story of hope to share with sisters in my community, and maybe, down the line, my own daughter too.
About the Author:
Coral Dabarera Edelson is a Registered Dietitian with a passion for black women's health and functional nutrition. She owns a private practice in the Los Angeles area. When not reading the latest nutrition research, she loves journaling, yoga, lifting weights, cooking, and most of all, eating! You can find her at coralrd.com.