In an ideal and equitable world, every birthing person would receive the care — both medical and interpersonal — they need to have a safe and empowering birthing experience.
For behavioral health scientist and director of maternal health at the Black Women’s Health Imperative (BWHI), Kanika Harris, that means “you have the support to take care of yourself and [your] growing baby,” she says. “It means that whatever brings you joy in this experience of bringing life into the world, you have the right to that.”
Whether that looks like giving birth at home, being surrounded by friends and family, settling into an intuitive birthing position, or incorporating cultural rituals, there should be space in the birthing experience for autonomy and joy.
Why then, within the current framework, do safety, support, and empowerment remain firmly out of reach for so many burgeoning families? Kanika, who’s policy and birthing justice work champions health equity for Black women, stipulates “I think for us in this country, birth is not feeling safe anymore.”
It’s a heart wrenching declaration — and one that’s supported by heaps of evidence. Despite the progress being made by BWHI and other birthing justice organizations, the stark reality is that birthing experiences and outcomes vary drastically based on racial identity, income, and social status.
These inequalities are a driving force in Knix’s decision to join forces with BWHI and to launch and sustain the NOURISH Program, a doula training program designed to meet the intersectional needs of Black birthing families. Taking a grassroots approach, the program is helping push the birthing justice movement forward.
This movement, as defined by the University of California San Francisco, calls for safeguarding “the rights of birthing people to make decisions around their pregnancies, including seeking abortions, and to have children in safe and supportive environments.”
It’s a reasonable ask and, yet, Black and LGBTQ2S+ folks, as well as immigrants, those who are low income and not able-bodied face mounting inequality, often struggling to access adequate care.
The maternal mortality rate among Black birthing people in the U.S. remains disproportionately high, while thousands of others experience unexpected labor and delivery outcomes with complicated health consequences. It’s especially troubling if you consider 80% of pregnancy-related deaths are completely preventable.
“Every mother, everywhere, regardless of race or background deserves to have a healthy pregnancy and birth,” reads a social post from world class athlete Serena Williams in honor of Black Maternal Health Week.
After welcoming her daughter via emergency C-section, she suffered a pulmonary embolism, among other health complications — an eye opening example of how structural racism and implicit bias can affect even the most privileged women of color.
As organizations and advocates alike work towards eliminating barriers to health equity for Black women and birthing people, knowledge and education are key to empowering women of color to pursue the best health decisions for themselves.
This looks like challenging the insidious forces of racism, sexism, and inequality at work within the health and reproductive care system. It also involves restoring knowledge to the Black birthing community by offering person-centered care and support from traditional birth-workers, like midwives and doulas.
“I think having doulas present is providing continuous support and care, and providing a way for families to feel safe,” says Kanika. “[It’s] so critical that you have someone that’s helping you or providing you support throughout that journey.”
To date, the NOURISH program (which is scholarship-based and free of cost) has trained 38 full-spectrum doulas who have gone on to provide 160 Black birthing families with the physical, emotional, and informational support needed to manage the transition into parenthood and the postpartum phase.
“The NOURISH program really came out of this idea of restoring autonomous communities that understand birth and have that knowledge for them and their families,” says Kanika.
While the program provides postpartum doulas with the knowledge and resources needed to support birthing families, its grassroots approach also allows women to advocate for themselves, as well as circulate knowledge within their families and communities at large.
Knix’s donations to the scholarship program have grown to over $200,000 — thanks, in part, to the $1 donations from every item purchased from our Maternity and Postpartum Collection.
As NOURISH continues to expand, it’s heartening to know that doulas — empowered with knowledge and person-centered care — are transforming the lives of those in their communities. And, in no small way, are driving the birthing justice movement forward by improving the health outcomes of birthing people.
The crux, however, remains that how women show up to birth is just one component of an overarching system in which social determinants continue to negatively impact women of color on the whole (pregnant or not).
When the health needs of women of color are being met, “then you don’t have to worry about how pregnant women show up to birth,” according to Kanika.
“Maternal health is the number one indicator of the health of a nation,” she tells me. “Birthing justice means you have sovereignty and autonomy to live your life on your terms, get all the resources you need to provide for your family, [and to] live out your passions — whatever that means.”
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We hope you found this post informative — but remember: we’re not doctors and this post is not medical advice! While all posts are fact-checked and well researched, we always recommend you chat with your doctor about any questions or concerns you might have regarding a medical condition. We’re here to support and educate, but never with the aim of disregarding professional medical advice you’ve been given. Phew, now that that’s out of the way, you can go on living unapologetically free.