“Hormonal changes” and the “social and psychological changes associated with having a baby” are the main causes of postpartum depression according to most medical dictionaries.
But what about the fear and anxiety of raising a child in a country where they could be gunned down by an institution that claims to serve and protect them?
Lyanne Jordan, co-founder and executive director of Maroon Calabash, a community of Black radical birthworkers, made this observation in the summer of 2020 — in the peak of the Black Lives Matter Movement.
Before that summer, only about a third of Maroon Calabash’s clients experienced postpartum mood disorders.
But when protests around police brutality increased, the number of people experiencing mood disorders also increased… to nearly 100 percent.
Jordan went on to explain that “a lot of parents [were] scoring very high on postpartum depression screens, in numbers [they] had not seen in [their] doulas’ 20 years of experience.”
For Black mothers and birthing people, postpartum mood and anxiety disorders (PMADs) are not only caused by things going on internally in the body.
The external factors of racism and systemic injustice add even more of a mental burden to the experience of birthing and raising a Black child.
On top of the fact that Black women and birthing people are more likely to experience postpartum depression and health complications than white birthing people, they are also more likely to:
Be uninsured, even though they’re more likely to need insurance to cover treatment for complications during and after birth.
This means they have to pay more out of pocket for pre- and postnatal care, or they have to skip entirely on critical care — simply because they can’t afford it. This adds stress to an already stressful situation.
Have less access to care they need when it comes to their mental health — not only because those services are less accessible to them, but also because they often aren’t heard or understood by predominantly white healthcare practitioners.
Be judged and even punished by social institutions for how they parent their children.
Syesha Mercado, a former American Idol contestant, is just one example of a Black mom who experienced this.
You may have seen her story on social media — in February 2021, she and her husband took their son Amen’Ra to the hospital for a medical checkup because he wasn’t transitioning well from breast milk to other fluids.
Two weeks later, CPS and armed officers took Amen’Ra away from his parents’ care and placed him in the foster system because they were convinced he was being neglected at home.
Amen’Ra finally reunited with his parents, after spending 6 months away from them. From her Instagram account, Syesha reflected:
“I can’t even explain how traumatizing it has been to be forcefully removed from my proudest creation in this life.”
Not only was she traumatized by this experience — so was Amen’Ra, not even 2 years old when this took place. All this after Syesha sought help for her son at a place where he SHOULD have received appropriate care.
These external factors add a whole other layer of stress to the Black birthing experience that other birthing people simply don’t go through.
So, what can we do about this?
Can we pass bills that provide free mental health care for all Black birthing people? Someday, but most likely not anytime soon.
The #1 thing that will help Black birthing people is money.
I teach historically excluded folks how to make more money so that they can enjoy nice vacations, buy their dream homes, and experience financial freedom. But, more importantly…
I help folks learn how to build wealth because money helped me significantly improve my own birthing experience after having my first 2 kids — enabling me to afford a doula for my third pregnancy.
I teach folks how money can greatly improve and save lives, especially those of Black moms and babies because I experienced it first hand.
Money has helped me provide life-saving and life-changing services to Black birthing people in need.
And it has helped me support social justice movements that directly impact Black lives.
Every single thing I’ve spoken about in this article can be improved or resolved, to some extent, with money.
Covering expensive medical bills and medication…
Being able to afford specialized mental healthcare pre- and postpartum…
Advocating for the rights and protections of Black mothers and children…
These things all bring peace of mind — and they all require money.
While money can’t make postpartum depression go away…
It can help minimize the external stresses on Black moms so postpartum depression can improve.
We can make this change, together.
xo,
Rachel
P.S. If you want to know how you can support Black mothers and birthing people today, check out my non-profit, the Hello Seven Foundation. We provide life-changing and life-saving services to Black birthing people and babies in need — this is just one way we can help improve maternal mental health in Black parents.
