SisterSpace

When It Comes to Your Health, Your Zip Code Matters More Than Your Genetic Code

2011-03-25T13:17:00.000-07:00

Today is the one year anniversary of the passage of the Affordable Care Act and guess what? According to a recent survey, over one half of Americans don't think health reform is actually a law.

It is folks.

I'm marking the one year anniversary by attending the National Association of Black Journalists Media Institute on Health, Health Policy and Health Disparities in Washington, DC.

I heard two very profound statements today that tell the story about rampant health disparities impacting communities of color. Those two statements were not long prognostications about the social determinants of health or the root causes of these racial and ethnic inequities.

The comments indeed were about those things, but they were short enough for Twitter but utterly profound in answering those questions.

Comment #1: "Your zip code may be more important than your genetic code when it comes to health disparities."

Comment # 2: "We have a sick system not a healthcare system."

Comment 1 struck me because it alarms me that where you live is one of the key drivers of your health. According to the World Health Organization, Report on the Social Determinants of Health, avoidable health inequities arise because of the circumstances in which people grow, live, work and age and the systems put in place to deal with illness. In turn, the conditions in which people live and die are, in turn, shaped by political, social and economic forces.

That's why I was really impressed with a new initiative by The Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies, called Place Matters, which seeks to address conditions in the natural environment, built environment and social environment that lead to poor health. The goal is to eliminate health disparities by identifying the complex underlying causes and defining strategies to address them.

I am convinced these issues play a significant role in maternal and child health.

Comment # 2 was just too simplistically truthful to ignore. Healthcare is a misnomer for our system. It takes care of your sickness but does little to protect your health. In fact, today I learned that for every $1 spent on healthcare only 5 cents goes to prevention.

This is pathetic because so many mothers wouldn't needlessly die if there were more prevention programs and community-level interventions.

FDA Formula Probe Is Good News for Mothers, Babies

2011-03-18T04:44:00.000-07:00

The FDA announced last week that it is planning to look into the health claims of infant formulas. I couldn't be happier. One of the biggest or should I latest of the formula industry's misleading claims is for omega-3 fatty acids--DHA, in particular, which misleads mothers into thinking formula is just as good as breast milk.

Specifically, the FDA says it wants to: "assess women's understanding of and response to various statements on infant formula labels. The study results will be used to help the agency to understand the role that certain types of statements on infant formula labels have in influencing formula choice…The study will focus on purchase choice, perceived similarity of the formula to breast milk and perceived likelihood that the formula has certain health benefits."

This is great news. For years, the infant formula companies have successfully marketed their formulas as just as good as breast milk without any such evidence. This marketing has been particularly aggressive in the black community. In a recent interview, a lactation consultant told me of a mom was asking for "the formula with breast milk in it." Wow!

No such thing actually exists, but it highlights the dangerously successful marketing by deep pocketed formula companies that leave moms confused and about what formula is and isn't.

Having been an intrepid business reporter for many years and a former senior writer at Fortune magazine, I can certainly understand the business dilemma of the formula makers: There is no money to be made from breastfeeding. Plain and simple.

When your number one competition is free, and you can't compete on price, you have to be creative. Really creative. And even misleading.

Meanwhile, market competition pushes formula companies to improve their product by adding so-called nutrients--especially the ones that can be considered "conditional" by the FDA. A conditional nutrient is one that might have some benefits under some circumstances. Even if the health benefits are minimal or questionable, they can still be used in advertising.

As a result many formulas have added fatty acids such as omega 6 arachidonic acid (ARA) and omega-3 docosahexaenoic acid--the same ones that are in fish oil. These two fatty acids are naturally present in breast milk and are reported to help infant brain development and vision.

But here's what happened behind the scenes: Formula makers were able to get the FDA to agree that ARA and DHA are normal components of food (which is true) and, therefore, are Generally Recognized As Safe (GRAS). They were then free to add ARA and DHA to infant formulas without having to prove that either of them really did anything useful or beneficial. But the mere mention of such additives, gave them breast milk cred. Even worse, instead of marketing formula as a safe alternative if you can't breastfeed, they tried to make it appear just as good as breastfeeding for all mothers.

I mean, why bother to breastfeed if I can give them the same nutrients from formula, a mother could reason. The problem is, you can't.

And it's high time the government stopped allowed deceptive marketing of formula at the cost of infant and maternal health.

If you agree, please join me in letting the FDA know that this study is welcome and long overdue.

You can also file comments at http://www.regulations.gov. Refer to Docket No. FDA–2011–N–0098

Gratitude: Yes, We Are Still Breastfeeding

2011-03-14T11:26:00.000-07:00

(WOMENSNEWS)

Let's start by putting the pertinent details right out there on the table: I'm Black. I'm the mother of a nearly 2-year old daughter. And yes, we are still breastfeeding.

To me, there's nothing particularly radical about what I've just told you about myself. Motherhood and nursing are mine by choice; my skin color and curly hair are factors over which I had no more control than any other person born into this world. But sadly enough, the convergence of these three aspects of my identity – my blackness, my role as a mother, and my decision to nurse, especially into the toddler years – makes me a rather unconventional bird, indeed.

If you've paid any attention to the data on rates of breastfeeding among Black women, you'll understand what I mean. While women overall are now initiating breastfeeding at a rate of 75 percent, Black women trail the pack, initiating breastfeeding in just 54 percent of births. Look beyond the initiation phase (i.e. those first hours and days after birth when most of us would try anything), and the news gets even worse for Black babies. Though the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends "exclusive breastfeeding to age 6 months and continued breastfeeding for at least the first year of life," by the time our children reach 12 months of age, only 11.7 percent of them are still being breastfed, as compared to 24 percent of Hispanic babies and 21 percent of white babies.

(And at two years? I couldn't even find data for that. But if my personal experience is any evidence, let's just say we're a teeny, tiny drop in a bucket that's far too small overall.)

Statistics like those drive me beyond mad – both because I'm saddened to think about how many Black babies are missing out on the kind of nutrition baby docs have acknowledged is ideal, and because I'm sick to death of seeing poll after poll highlighting just how far behind the Black community lags, in a host of important categories (don't even get me started on the achievement gap).

But I have to be honest: frustrating and scary as those numbers are, they aren't what got me breastfeeding in the first place, or what have kept me at it for so long. The factors driving those truths are far more personal, as I'm sure they are for every mother out there, whether they choose to breastfeed or not.

My family's history with breastfeeding has already been beautifully documented in a Women's eNews video by Malena Amusa, so I won't go into deep detail about why I, like a minority of other Black women, did in fact chose to breastfeed.

The short version is that I knew many women who did breastfeed, had done my research on the topic, and decided that it made sense to me to at least give it a try and see how things went.

Luckily for me, things went beautifully: my newborn daughter turned out to know much more about breastfeeding than I did; she latched on right after her birth, and never looked back. I'd like to stress again here that I consider this pure luck – there's nothing I did or didn't do to wind up with a baby who breastfed well, right from the beginning, and I'm very clear about the fact that things could have gone just the opposite way.

I'm isolating this luck factor because I think it has everything to do with why, nearly two years later, my daughter and I are still enjoying a healthy, happy nursing relationship. Nursing was never, ever a source of stress for us. If it had been, I think it's quite likely that we would have weaned far earlier than now.

The other piece of luck that went into this particular equation was the fact that I was able to decide, not long after my daughter was born, that I no longer wanted to work full time outside of my home. Making that decision wasn't easy, but my particular profession gives me the latitude to work more or less from anywhere.

From a nursing perspective, this was an absolutely key choice. I was never a big fan of pumping, and I am almost 100 percent certain that if I had had to pump at work on a daily basis, I would have struggled to breastfeed even for a year. The luxury (and it is nothing short of that in this country, sadly enough) of being able to work from home has meant that I can largely nurse on demand. It has made nursing easy, and, again, mostly stress free. It's become a natural and soothing (for both of us) part of our daily routine, and therefore a practice it's been easy to continue as my daughter has grown from infant to toddler.

My point in sharing all of this is not, I promise, to ask you to bask with me in the rosy haze of self-satisfaction that can become the norm among some breastfeeding advocates.

I share my story with you precisely because the circumstances that have made my breastfeeding experience possible are so exceptional and rare. Some of our success, as I've said, had to do with the luck of the baby draw, and the fact that I didn't struggle with milk production. But our ability to succeed long term also had everything to do with the early and continuing support I received from my community (the women around me who were also breastfeeding, my doctors, my partner, my mother and on), and with the good fortune of being able to make choices about my work life that, coincidentally, made breastfeeding easier. Those are luxuries that few women in America have – and among Black women, the number is once again smaller still.

In a better version of America, all women would have the opportunity to make choices for themselves and their families that feel right to them -- as my choices have felt right to me. If we lived in a nation that truly valued the health and well being of women and children – where extended and paid parental leave was the norm; where all hospitals promoted breastfeeding, and provided women with the support they need to continue breastfeeding once they are on their own – then breastfeeding for a year and beyond might not have to depend so much on the existence of "exceptional" and "rare" circumstances that made it possible in my own case.

That, to me, is something to aim for.

How long will I continue to breastfeed my daughter? I've got no more definitive answer to that now than I did back when breastfeeding was a concept, not a practice. All I can say is that I believe, wholeheartedly, that my daughter and I will come to an understanding about when it's time to stop, when it feels right and good for both of us. At the moment, that time is not here – and that's perfectly fine with me. But when that day comes, that will be just fine, too. Fortunately, we get to figure it out as we go along. Every mother and baby should be so lucky.

Elizabeth G. Hines, a New York-based writer, is co-author of the award-winning bestseller Black Titan: A.G. Gaston and the Making of a Black American Millionaire

Demanding More For The Future Black History Makers And The Mothers Who Birth Them

2011-02-25T08:20:00.000-08:00

As Black History Month comes to a close I've been reflecting on the history of black women as mothers. Thinking about our legacy as the women who tirelessly carried our families and communities. Mothers who didn't listen when the world said we were thoughtless breeders and our children were mere commodities to be bought or sold. In more recent history, black mothers have been publicly shamed as crack mothers, welfare queens and the face of "baby mama drama." Black single motherhood is blamed for all sorts of social ills from crime to drugs to "wilding" teens. And black mothers are often represented in popular culture as neck-rolling domineering household managers who run circles around our men.

Let's face it. The historical misperception of who we are has not been very flattering.

But I'm asking you to stay true to what you know: These stereotypes are very far from the truth. In truth, black women today have redefined black history and created a new conversation about our roles as mothers. For example, when I watched the Brady Bunch and Happy Days and reruns of Leave It To Beaver, the subtle messaging was that being a stay at home mom and catering to your child's every need was a white woman's pleasure. Black women have always worked--as slaves, as cleaners, as teachers, as doctors, as lawyers. Even our TV mamas (Claire Huxtable included) always worked outside the home.

Today more and more black women are stay at home or work at home moms (myself included), we have robust national organizations like Mocha Moms http://mochamoms.org/ to support women who are making motherhood their career (even if just for a few years or so).

We have a First Lady who epitomizes everything modern black motherhood is about, career success, loving partnership and commitment to being the mom-in-chief of your own family command center.

This shift in our motherhood experience may seem subtle, but in the framework of our history, it is groundbreaking. And thrilling. It not only speaks to how far we have come as a people, but how far we have come as black mothers, who went from having no control over our children to taking control of our children, our lives, and our families' financial future. We now have varied and different motherhood experiences yet we still know we are doing important work that goes well beyond our home.

Yet, there is much work to do. We still need to increase our breastfeeding rates, to give our babies the healthiest start in life and improve our own health as mothers. We need to demand answers to why our maternal death rate is double and is some urban cities seven-times that of our white peers, and start questioning the quality of care we receive.

As we celebrate our history as black Americans, we must protect the next generation of black history-makers currently growing in wombs across the nation. And we must demand better care for the mothers who bring them into the world.

Is Black History Month Doing Us Any Good?

2011-02-21T09:18:00.000-08:00

Three weeks ago, I started a discussion on my website, Mochamanual.com concerning whether or not Black History Month was still relevant or even necessary today.

I was starting to wonder myself.

The responses from our mocha (Manual) moms were eye opening. Several moms stated it's not about "them" (the white majority) learning our history, but more about "us" teaching our children our own history. And that as black mothers, we cannot properly prepare our children for the future if they don't know their past.

Also, Black History Month gives us a chance to correct the record books and to reflect: Where are we now? Can we do better? they said. And many commenters also feared that, with a black president, we could easily become complacent about how much further we have to go.

All good stuff.

One week later, I continued this lively dialogue over on Baby Center's blog, Momformation.com, hoping to share this message with a more mainstream audience. Imagine my surprise when things took a shockingly heated and disastrous turn for the worse. Some responses erred on the side of ignorance, while others were just blatantly racist. Some of the many contributors' comments included the following:

"I Don't Think We Need It At All… We Have A Black President What More Do You People Need????….. And The Slavery And Black People Issues Are Gone. So NO I Don't Think We Need A "Black History Month!"

"I think honestly black people are the ones that separate themselves. I'm not trying to be rude, but most "white" people see black and white people as the same, but black people still think that "white" people see them as maybe inferior or as "them and us," so please get over it, we are all the same."

"It seems however that black people don't really want what they are preaching; equality. They still want the segregation and to remind white people of how the past was. Your use of "us" and "them" is why "your" race is holding themselves back. I think the better lesson for all would be: Who really has the problem with racism? … As a white woman, I am saddened that people are still making this a huge issue. It happened, it is over, move on. Make the world better. If the focus and energy used on "race" was applied elsewhere, this world would be amazing!"

"It's separatist and serves to create an "us vs. them" atmosphere. If we truly want color to be a "non-issue" why have a BLACK history month? Is there an Asian history month (May)? A WHITE history month (uh, no)? A Native American history month (November)? That get the PR of black history month? Nope."

Besides for the fact that I always have to SMH whenever anyone says black people should "get over" slavery, I find it particularly sad that many people don't understand the legacy of slavery. (They also seem to forget that 246 years of slavery was followed by roughly 100 years of Jim Crow laws that lasted until 1965).

They don't see how race plays into everything, and I do mean everything from politics to education to health care reform to birth outcomes to cancer survival to maternal mortality rates. All of it has racial undertones. And sometimes overtones. (It's a word to me, :-))

They don't see the health disparities, wealth gap, employment gap or education gap as a byproduct of the systemic racism that still exists in this country.

They don't see it because they don't live it. Or live near it. In fact, they probably only drive past it. And very quickly with the doors locked.

What really saddens me is that this audience is moms. Parents. People responsible for shepherding young lives into the world--filling their brains and shaping their values. People whose children will be sitting in class next to my beautifully brown son and daughter.

Even more frightening, these people are policemen, teachers and, God help us, doctors and nurses, charged with our care. And our babies care.

Houston, we have a problem.

And the problem is a subtle bias lingering in the minds of many Americans.

And I'm just not sure if a million Black History Month's can ever fix that.

What do you think?

Will Health Care Reform Help the Racial Legacy of Health Disparities? Or Will Race Matters Get In The Way?

2011-02-10T10:17:00.000-08:00

With people of color representing 50 percent of the uninsured in America, the new Affordable Health Care Act stands to represent the biggest social movement to impact our communities since civil rights.

But will it solve the health disparity issues that continue to plagues African Americans?

Recently, I attended the Families USA conference in Washington, D.C., where among other distinguished speakers, the 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama, spoke live addressing the conference attendees.

The president eloquently spoke of the benefits of the act, which has already dismantled that pesky "pre-existing condition" clause, which forced millions of Americans to be uninsurable by deep-pocketed insurance companies and caused thousands of others to die because of it. He was candid about the flaws in the law and reiterated his willingness to make changes in some areas.

As a self-employed mother of two who has struggled with my own health insurance issues, I listened intently to the debate that preceded the current law. And the still unfolding drama since it became law---and I just couldn't figure out why there was so much vehement dialogue against health care reform.

Was it really debatable that our system needed a major overhaul?

Having lived in London, England, and having experienced their medical care for myself and my children, I couldn't really understand what was the real problem with a universal health care system. Or with creating more options and lower costs. Not the political excuses and grandstanding, but the real issues. Especially since most of the most vocal objectors have some of the best health coverage this country has to offer. Lucky them.

The answer came to me at the conference in a dynamic panel discussion led by an extremely passionate woman--Gail Christopher, vice president for health at the W.K. Kellogg Foundation. (Full disclosure: The Black Maternal Health Project is funded by the Kellogg Foundation)

After sharing her personal story of arriving at a hospital to deliver a baby only to be left in the corner because someone just assumed she was a black woman on Medicaid, she said something so simple, yet true: "Where you stand is often based on where you sit."

It took all my strength not to jump out of my seat with an uncharacteristic, "You said it, sister!!"

I clapped instead.

But where most detractors "sit" is at the table of the haves with little concern for the have-nots and a lot of selective amnesia.

They've forgotten that this country got its haves by raping, killing and stealing from the people of color they found when they got here. They forget that their history of racism and segregation, left blacks concentrated in communities with severe health risks and without access to any remedies. They choose to ignore the cumulative impact of this racial legacy and the scores of women and vulnerable children it disproportionately impacts.

They forget about environmental racism, doctor deserts, food deserts and other gaping holes that have created and maintained a systemic inequity in access to health care.

An inequity and legacy that plays out every day in high maternal mortality and infant mortality rates and poor birth outcomes in black women across all socioeconomic levels, among others.

And multiple studies have already proven that people of color receive inferior care regardless of their insurance status or socioeconomic status. (I was happy to learn that the health care law has over 75 provisions to address equity issues, including more community based health care services.)

This is an important step in the right direction.

And so, unfortunately, like so many other issues in this country, it really comes down to race. Racial tensions in this country are getting worse, not better.

Everybody knows the true wealth of a nation is the health of its people. Yet, in this country any concept of a publicly supported health care system has a stigma of helping poor people. And by poor, they think lazy. So what if your children suffer? This stigma needs to be removed.

Politicians have pulled off a near-Reagan like maneuver duping Americans into believing who really benefits from the new health care act.

Every one benefits.

But the same patriotic, Federalist Papers-reading countrymen who "want their country back" should take a fast forward real look at the country they hold so dear. By 2042 it is estimated that one in four people will be a person of color. You can take the health care reform issue to the Supreme Court if you'd like, masking your political agenda in a baseless legal challenge. But we're all in this together, with our futures inextricably linked. And we are a constituency not to be ignored.

Because unfortunately for you, my memory is not like your memory.

Joan Rivers' "Blackie O" Comment Is An Insult to All Black Women and Mothers

2011-02-03T10:15:00.000-08:00

I was really saddened and quite frankly, upset, to hear Joan Rivers share recently on national radio that her pet name for the First Lady is "Blackie O." Now, I often find Ms. Rivers hilarious as she pans celebrities on the red carpet and when trying to move her face despite way too many plastic surgeries. But this one, just wasn't funny.

Why not Chelly O? Or Mrs. O since her last name already starts with the letter? But to take it to race was just unnecessary, and highlights a few key points that have been bothering me of late.

For one, there is an unsettling undercurrent of disrespect toward our first family that always comes back to race that has never been experienced before. For eight years we had a president who couldn't find his way to a coherent sentence with a flashlight and a map, but the insults never equated his stupidity with race. I would have preferred if Ms. Rivers talked about Mrs. Obama's outfits.

And for the uninformed the world "blackie" has an extremely negative and racist connotation. It was used to denigrate, dehumanize and liken people of African descent to monkeys. Monkeys. Blackies. Get it? Still not funny, right?

I didn't think so either.

I'm happy to chalk it up to Joan's ignorance. I can only imagine what all that pulling and tugging has done to her brain capacity. But I think it continues a pervasive negative tone of disrespect for African Americans, and specifically black women. Here we have a Princeton University and Harvard Law School educated woman, who has worked at top law firms, selflessly served her community, a committed mother, and is serving as First Lady of the most powerful country in the world with more grace, poise, and dare I say fashion flair, than the White House has seen in decades, and even SHE gets thrown racial epithets?

What hope is there for me and my daughter? And the millions of the other black mothers raising their daughters and sons to be their best and serve their communities? Is that what we can expect, that even in the face of extraordinary accomplishments, to still be viewed as "blackies?"

This is not a laughing matter. In fact, it gives me goose bumps, and not the good ones. It's just another example of the kind of stresses black mothers face, and it upsets me that Michelle Obama's mother is feeling it, even as she sleeps in the White House.

Oh and memo to Joan Rivers: I know you are trying to keep your career afloat, sign new reality show deals and hold on to your relevance and youth, but America is trying to move past its racist history. We have much at stake in addressing this type of thinking and the many ways it plays out in our health and in our lives. And by referencing it, and then acting surprised that African Americans would be offended by it, you are showing yourself to be the one thing you strive so hard not to be: Old.

Am I Doing Good Enough As a Single Mom?

2011-01-13T08:13:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, I really think I have this single mom thing under control. Not perfect. But nicely managed. I feel confident that my children are adjusting and that our routines matter. But the other week a troubling thing happened.

While eating a very lovely dinner of roast chicken (stuffed with rosemary,sage and thyme) and macaroni and cheese, my children and I found a wishbone. They decided to make a wish.

Of all the things that could be running through a child's mind to wish for, my 6-year old son whispered this, "I wish my parents would get back together."

I was somewhat shocked and a little sad.

My husband left July 2006 and since then I've worked tirelessly to keep a stable home environment for them. I left my demanding and lucrative career to work for myself and be more present for them. I am there at nearly every drop off and pick up, every school performance and book fair, we have family dinners every night, fun weekend activities and I have worked every day to maintain a good co-parenting relationship with the "wasband" for the good of the children. I tell them that we are still a family, just a different kind of family and I make sure they include their Dad in their nightly prayers. But I've also tried to make it abundantly clear to them that their father and I are happier apart and this is how things will be.

So, where have I gone wrong? Should I take it personally that my children are still holding on to a dream that will never (and I do mean never) happen? Or is this what children do for years and years after divorce? Will they ever get it and be okay?

My parents have been married 51 years and I feel blessed that I don't know what my children are experiencing. But that also leaves me clueless as to what is "normal" for this situation and what is not. You can only read but so many books.

As mothers, we want to make our children are emotionally well-rounded, stable and sure in their sense of self. As black mothers, we know the latter is most important because the world will try to tell them who they are. It is our job to make sure they know the truth. And much of that, in my opinion, begins at home, with a strong family. Regardless of what your "family" looks like.

I thought, well hoped, that my efforts would make my children feel normal. Complete. That they would accept their new reality and be ok with it. I thought that they were happy and settled in their new life but as it turns out, they are still yearning for their old one. And I'm concerned.

Am I doing something wrong? Or are they exactly where they are meant to be?

Battling the Bulge from Birth

2010-12-17T12:44:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year when everyone is thinking about eating lots of good food with family. Then in a few weeks, we will all make new and not-to-be kept resolutions about losing the weight gained by eating those same meals and many others throughout the past year.

But to really battle the bulge, not just for ourselves but for our children, we have to start early, avoid empty promises and face the facts.

Now, for the most part we black women love our curves and really have no use for the latest crash diets. The way we walk, talk, and dress says "I am bold and beautiful, love it or leave it!" But at as fabulous as we think we are, obesity is still a prominent issue in the black community.

I have heard every excuse from "My family is big- boned" to "queen- sized" and my favorite "That just means there's more of me to love!" And, while these statements and mantras seem to scream I am confident and love my body, we need to address why statistics show that six out of every ten African American women are overweight and four out of every ten is morbidly obese. There is a huge difference between having a little belly or being a little hippy and packing on 30 to 100 extra pounds or more. 50 percent of African-American women are obese compared to only 40 percent of Mexican-American women and only 30 percent of White women.

While we already know that the high rates of obesity in our community is linked to the prevalence of diseases such as heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure, stroke, arthritis and cancer. We don't see too many people addressing prevention strategies for all of these diseases that start at birth. If we really want to curb the obesity epidemic in our community we have to start well before childhood. We can start as soon as the baby is born.

Breast-feeding helps us lose the weight we gained during pregnancy and has many other health benefits for us too.

Breastfeeding is proven to reduce your baby's chance of being obese. The breastfeeding-obesity link is now recognized by key government agencies and professional groups, Including the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the American Academy of Pediatrics. Experts at the CDC in Atlanta estimate that 15 percent to 20 percent of obesity could be prevented through breastfeeding. Here are some of the reasons why:

Breastfed infants may be better at self-regulating their intake. Mothers cannot see how much milk their child is drinking, so they must rely on their infant's behavior, not an empty bottle, to signal when their infant is full. Thus, breastfed babies might be better able to eat only as much as they need.
Breastfed infants are more likely than formula-fed infants to try and accept new foods. Acceptance of new foods is important because a healthy diet should include a wide variety of foods, especially fruits and vegetables. Because breast milk contains flavors from foods eaten by mothers, breastfed infants are exposed to a variety of tastes early in life. In contrast, artificial baby milk (formula) always tastes the same.
Breastfeeding has different effects than formula feeding on infant's metabolism and hormones such as insulin, which tells the body to store fat. Formula-fed infants tend to be fatter than breastfed infants at 12 months of age.
For us to make a real impact on obesity in our community, we have to start at birth. It's really that simple. Resolving to breastfeed more and support any breastfeeding mother you know, is a real resolution for change.

Want Happy Holidays? Avoid the Holiday Spending Hangover

2010-12-06T09:04:00.000-08:00

It always strikes me how the holidays are supposed to be so merry, but they seem to always end up being so stressful. Moms and dads want to create the "perfect" Christmas, everyone is trying out out-do the other and the whole thing turns into a mess. A lot of the holiday stress is around money, or the lack thereof. And the holidays are often the time when many families take on more credit card debt, blow their budget and avoid paying bills just to find money to buy presents. And in these tough times, overspending can be more dangerous than ever before. It has been estimated that one out of every three African American families is at the risk of falling out of the middle class due to job loss, overspending, unexpected financial crises or other issues.

Even though our spending power exceeds $920 billion the average net wealth of black families is merely $15,000. In fact, Black people disproportionately represent a major portion of Americans in debt:

• Right out the gate more Black college grads are left with more debt than white students, and the average American takes about 10 years just to pay off their student loans.

• Over 90% of African-American families earning between $10,000 and $24,999 are in credit card debt.

• 26% of Americans said that they do not pay all of their bills on time. Among African-Americans, this number is 51%.

This year, I'm imploring all families to be mindful of their budget. Avoid taking on undue stress by digging yourself deeper into debt, and strongly consider going back to basics and remembering the true spirit of the holidays. Family. Togetherness. As moms we play a critical role in setting the tone for the holidays and we also bear the brunt of cleaning up any financial messes we create. As part of my personal gift to you, I also found these great tips that I wanted to share with all women and heads of households, so that you can have a merry holiday without the holiday hangover. That never feels good.

1. Minimize all gifting and expenditures to your immediate family (You and your Kids, and husband/significant other)

2. Make a list of your income and all of your expenses.

3. After you have a very clear picture of where your money has to go you can see where you have room to wiggle room! Give yourself a very specific credit card budget and don't go beyond that.

4. Instead of buying 3 or 4 expensive gifts buy more inexpensive gifts.

5. Start early and use layaway programs for your must-have items.

6. Make this holiday season about family bonding. Check your local papers and websites for free events that will be great for you and your family.

Let's make smart decisions to close out this year that won't leave us stressed out next year.

Formula Fed? Not For My Baby: One Mom's Story

2010-11-16T09:47:00.000-08:00

According to my Random House dictionary, definition No. 6 for the word "formula" is a mixture of milk and other ingredients for feeding a baby. I can deal with the milk; it's the other ingredients that concern me. The word "formula" immediately makes me think of mad scientists hovering over test tubes in a laboratory. It also makes me think of experimenting and trial and error. Why "formulate" something to feed your baby when God has equipped most women's bodies to produce milk after they give birth. Breast milk has exactly the right amount of fat, sugar, water, and protein that a baby needs.

I once heard that humans are the only mammals that intentionally feed their young something other than their own milk. That, among many other factors, helped me decide not to give my baby formula. When breastfeeding is an option, I think Black mothers owe it to themselves and their babies to breastfeed for as long as possible. Other than women with illnesses that prevent them from breastfeeding, new moms should at least make an attempt to give their babies the considerable health advantages that breast milk has been proven to provide.

Extended breastfeeding has been credited with protecting babies from various illnesses. It is said to increase a child's intelligence and it may also help to prevent obesity. Breastfeeding may offer protection from SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome). Some research has even linked the failure to breastfeed to intestinal issues experienced later in life. Breastfeeding exclusively for the first six months seems to offer babies significant health protection.

Moms benefit just as much from extended breastfeeding as their babies do. Breastfeeding moms are often free of a menstrual cycle for a longer period of time after giving birth. Breast, uterine, ovarian, and endometrial cancer risks are lower in women that practice extended breastfeeding. Diabetes is a disease that is prominent in the Black community. According to some studies, breastfeeding may lower insulin needs in diabetic women (http://breastfeeding.about.com/od/problemssolutions/a/diabetes.htm). Weight loss is another incentive for extended breastfeeding. In my case, about three months into breastfeeding I weighed less than I weighed prior to my pregnancy.

Along with the health benefits, extended breastfeeding provides an opportunity to bond with your baby in a way that no one else can. I can't put into words the joy I felt cradling my baby knowing that I was created by God to be able to nourish her. Mothers and babies are physically connected for 40 weeks during the baby's development. For breastfeeding mothers and babies extended nursing is a continued physical, emotional, and spiritual link.

Tangela Walker-Craft is the creator of Go Pillow! a patented, multipurpose childcare item that allows moms hands-free breastfeeding with comfort and president of Simply Necessary Inc. After nursing her own daughter for two years, Walker-Craft, realized that there was not a product on the market that allowed mothers to have nursing privacy and cradling comfort when others were present. Existing nursing pillows were too bulky and cumbersome for travel and cover-ups on the market required too much manipulation. The GoPillow! satisfies the needs of both breast feeding and bottle feeding mothers and caregivers. Learn more at http://www.simplynecessary.com/

New study: 400,000 infants born to depressed mothers. What can we do?

2010-11-10T11:22:00.000-08:00

Pregnancy is supposed to be a happy time. Those glossy pregnancy magazines would make you think every pregnant woman is running through green meadows with unmitigated joy.

But we all know the real deal. Broken relationships, economic hardships, thwarted life plans or just bad timing can create so much anxiety during pregnancy and can crowd out any joy you may want to feel. We'd like to think this sadder side of pregnancy is the exception to most experiences, but a new study says otherwise.

A recent report by American Academy of Pediatrics says every year, more than 400,000 infants are born to mothers who are depressed, which makes perinatal depression the most under-diagnosed obstetric complication in America.

That's big news.

With so many babies being born to depressed mothers, what does that mean for the level of early bonding and care that they receive? When you're depressed you are probably less likely to breastfeed, especially when it can be very physically and emotionally demanding in the early days and months. And what about the moms? How healthy are their eating habits, also linked to their likelihood to breastfeed, if they are depressed?

The point is, sad moms are even sadder news for babies.

What can be done? For one, there needs to be a broader dialogue about depression during pregnancy and post partum. It would be great if we didn't only portray one pregnancy experience as the "right" pregnancy experience, doing so keeps moms in the closet about their real feelings and prevents them from getting the help they need.

In our community, we need to do more talking. Black people are socialized not to air dirty laundry, so to speak, so we are often reluctant to share our problems, particularly with strangers. But talk to your doctor, a friend or trusted relative. If this is difficult, call an anonymous hotline, if you must. Just don't try to face depression alone.

If you're depressed, take off the strong black woman superhero outfit and pack it away. If your belief system says, I'm strong and I should be able to handle all situations, when the occasion inevitably arises that you can't do these things, you think of yourself as a failure. Those feelings can only lead to deeper depression.

Can you lighten your load? Cut down on your chores, errands for others, and other stressful activities. Try to do more things that will help you relax and regroup.

And there's nothing wrong with a little couch time with a culturally competent therapist--one who understands the complexities of a black woman's life.

Our babies have enough challenges in this world, let's do our part to make sure our children are born to moms who are as happy and mentally healthy as possible.

The I.R.S Says No Tax Break For Breastfeeding Moms. Acne Sufferers Get OK.

2010-11-01T10:37:00.000-07:00

This week, the good folks over at the Internal Revenue Service ruled that while people will be able to write off pimple creams and denture adhesives when the new tax sheltered health accounts kick in this January, women will not be able to write off the expense of breast pumps and other breastfeeding supplies.

A breast pump and various accessories can run about $500 to $1,000 for most mothers a year. Such costs, including nursing bras and other nursing friendly wear and gear are one of the many barriers for getting more women, and especially black women, to breastfeed longer.

The reason breastfeeding supplies didn't make the cut, is that the Internal Revenue Service has ruled that breast-feeding does not have enough health benefits to qualify as a form of medical care. Only as good nutrition, not as preventative care.

Seriously? I mean, aren't we past that conversation yet. And I'm sorry when did the IRS become a medical clearance board?

While breast-feeding supplies weren't allowed under the old regulations either, one major goal of the health care overhaul was to control medical costs by encouraging preventive procedures like immunizations and screenings, and what could be more preventative in infant health than breastfeeding?

Despite a growing body of research indicating that the antibodies passed from mother to child in breast milk could reduce disease among infants--including one recent study that found it could prevent the premature death of 900 babies a year--the I.R.S. has denied a request from the American Academy of Pediatrics to reclassify breast-feeding costs as a medical care expense, The New York Times reported.

I.R.S. officials say they consider breast milk a food that can promote good health, the same way that eating citrus fruit can prevent scurvy. But because the I.R.S. code considers nutrition a necessity rather than a medical condition, the agency's analysts view the cost of breast pumps, bottles and pads as no more deserving of a tax break than an orange juicer, the article continued.

I'm not even sure what to say about that.

Despite all the progress made in getting the medical field, Congress and even the First Lady to acknowledge the benefits of breastfeeding, it looks like the IRS did not get the memo. Or catch the video.

Meanwhile, a study released this year by Harvard Medical School concluded that if 90 percent of mothers followed the standard medical advice of feeding infants only breast milk for their first six months, the United States could save $13 billion a year in health care costs and prevent the premature deaths of 900 infants each year from respiratory illness and other infections.

But to continue breastfeeding beyond maternity leave requires a pump. And good breast pumps aren't cheap. Nobody is asking for a handout here, just a well deserved tax break. Like the one given to zit creams.

As with any tax code, there will always be ways to work loopholes. Some consultants say mothers may ask their pediatricians for a note that says breastfeeding is medically necessary. But to have working moms jump through even more hoops for something that should be so easy seems insane. And given that, allegedly, the whole idea of health care reform, is to make things better, the insanity of it all is just a little too much to bear.

Talking Midwives in Midtown: an Aha! Moment

2010-10-21T09:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I met an old friend for breakfast. We met at Norma's in Le Parker Meridien hotel. As we noshed on a delicious breakfast, pondered who has actually ordered the $1,000 caviar breakfast item, we had a ground shaking conversation about the role of midwives in changing the landscape for maternal health.

My fellow diner was my good friend Shirley McAlpine, a beautifully statuesque British woman. She became my friend when I lived in London and is now doing some amazing work in the U.K and U.S. about prenatal education and natural childbirth through her popular Birthwise DVD http://birthwisedvd.com/us/ and consulting work. The tagline for Birthwise is "Your Creation. Your Choice." I love that.

Shirley had just returned from the Midwives Alliance of North American conference in the Nashville, Tenn., area and she was buzzing. Her energy was infectious. And while we are both involved with maternal health issues across the board, as two black women we are also particularly concerned about the issues in our community. So the questions began to roll. Could midwives be key to helping reduce the high pre-term birth and low birth-weight baby rate that continue to plague black women of all socioeconomic levels? Could midwives help reverse the high exceptionally C-section rates among black women and reduce the shamefully rising maternal mortality rates among black women?

Shirley and I are convinced, yes. And birth center models like The Birth Place, http://thebirthplace.org an unique midwifery and women's health center in Winter Garden, Florida run by Jenni Joseph, show impressive results in reducing pre –term births.

But, why? The answer, as it unfolded before us, was in the education that midwives provide. Expecting moms who work with midwives are more informed about the birth process than women who work with doctors only. We all know that most doctors prefer that you know less, and trust them more, so that they can do what works best for them and not deal with any pesky little questions about your own life that you may have.

After all knowledge is power.

So when a woman who has had a midwife is told she needs to be induced. She knows she can ask why, if the baby's heart rate is fine and other measures she's been educated on are still ok.

When a woman whose water has broken is told that she must be induced, a woman with a midwife may have been taught that actually unless other indicators show otherwise a baby can be fine for up to 24 hours after the water breaks. It is Hollywood that has told us otherwise, and turned the water breaking into the mad dash to the hospital event that makes for great cinema but woefully misinformed moms to be.

And when a woman has a true (not Hollywood or doctor-friendly) understanding of how long the labor process can be, she won't stand for being told that a C section is necessary because it's been five hours and she hasn't dilated. She will also have been educated on the real signs of labor, so she won't go the hospital too soon where labor can be stunted by laying in a bed and you are more likely to be given unnecessary medical interventions.

These are key pieces to the puzzle. As we know, the answer is not in the prenatal care. Women are getting that. But that hasn't improved matters. The key is in the education--an education that often does not happen in its full measure at a traditional doctor's office. And that midwives can provide.

And that nuanced understanding of how black women end up on the operating table more and remain six times more likely to die from pregnancy-related complication is worth more the $1,000 caviar.

Breastfeeding On My Time

2010-10-13T10:15:00.000-07:00

By Tangela Walker-Craft
WeNews guest blogger

I decided to breastfeed my daughter until she was 2 years old. I was the first person in my family to practice what is called extended breastfeeding since the introduction of baby formula.

I thought this was a personal decision, between me and my husband and my child, but boy was I wrong.

I taught her a few baby signs by the time she was about 9 months old, so she knew how to tell me when she wanted to be nursed. During the first year she was exclusively breastfed. By the second year she had a diet consisting of breast milk and toddler appropriate foods. During her second year, she breastfed less than the year before.

Unfortunately, unwanted and unwelcomed advice on when I should wean her came from everywhere. People that have never breastfed a day in their lives will offer their advice about when's the best time to wean YOUR baby. Even people that have never had a child will somehow know when you've breastfed long enough. Unbelievable!

If you resist their unsolicited advice, people may even switch from asking when you plan to wean to trying to scare you into weaning.

You'll likely hear, "If you don't wean her soon, you won't be able to do it." You may even get the, "She's going to start biting you when she gets teeth," threat. It's funny how most people accept that a baby will start to walk when he or she is ready, and talk when he or she is ready, but they think that there is a magic age when all babies should stop being breastfed.

Once threats don't manage to scare you into submission, the attempts to shame you into weaning may begin. You'll get the loaded, "You STILL breastfeeding that child? How old is she?"

Family members and people that feel that they can will make snide remarks about how your
child might be driving, married, or doing something else that's totally ridiculous before you wean him or her.

Things were particularly challenging because breastfeeding, especially extended breastfeeding, is not necessarily encouraged in Black families.

Like many breastfed babies, my daughter lacked the "baby bloat" that frequently occurs in formula fed babies. My well-meaning grandmother asked me dozens of times if I was sure my baby was getting enough to eat. She'd ask me, "Are you sure you're making enough milk?"

She and other members of my family refused to believe that my baby could survive on just breast milk. I was constantly guarding against my family's threats to give my daughter "real food". formula.

After breastfeeding six children of her own out of necessity, my 85-year-old grandmother seemed to view my decision to voluntarily breast feed as something out-dated or odd.

I think that moms that do not practice extended breastfeeding sometimes secretly resent moms that do. There is a competitive spirit that makes women want other women to make the same child care decisions that they've made. Women that do not, or did not practice extended breastfeeding, may feel that moms that do are judging them for their choice.

Contrary to the warnings, weaning for me was easy. Taking natural cues from my daughter during that second year, I breast fed less and less during the day time. Breastfeeding became more of a bonding and comfort activity for us at night. When I sensed that she was ready, I began telling her that mommy wouldn't have any more milk soon. My breast naturally responded by producing less milk because of the less frequent feedings.

My daughter's nursing slowed down to a few minutes only at bed time.

Over a three day period I cut the feedings down to quick bouts, which culminated in the end of what was one of the best experiences of my life. I am glad I never succumbed to the pressure to wean before we were ready, but it bothers me that such pressure exists.

Why are we so uncomfortable with extended breastfeeding?

Tanglela Walker-Craft is the creator of Go Pillow! a patented, multipurpose childcare item that allows moms hands-free breastfeeding with comfort and president of Simply Necessary Inc. After nursing her own daughter for two years, Walker-Craft, realized that there was not a product on the market that allowed mothers to have nursing privacy and cradling comfort when others were present. Existing nursing pillows were too bulky and cumbersome for travel and cover-ups on the market required too much manipulation. The GoPillow! satisfies the needs of both breast feeding and bottle feeding mothers and caregivers.

Learn more at:
http://www.simplynecessary.com/

New Study Links Race and Delayed Breast Cancer Diagnosis

2010-10-07T08:11:00.000-07:00

It's breast cancer awareness month. And for all the much-needed talk and fundraising done to help raise awareness about this important women's issues, a new study shows a troubling link between race and breast cancer diagnosis.

African American women are more likely than white women to be diagnosed at later stages of the disease and are more likely to die from it. Researchers have long wondered why and considered lack of health insurance as a likely factor. Yet, a troubling new study says that race and/or ethnicity -- rather than insurance status – is the leading cause in these delays in breast cancer diagnosis in minority women.

Researchers at George Washington University in Washington say they were surprised to find among women with health insurance, African-American and Hispanic women experienced greater delays in diagnosing breast cancer than Caucasian women.

The number of days from abnormal screening to definitive diagnosis for those with private insurance was 15.9 days for white women, 27.1 days for black women and 51.4 days for Hispanic women.

The most staggering and disturbing disparity was among women with government insurance. In that group, delay times were 11.9 days for white, 39.4 days for black and 70.8 days for Hispanics. Among women without insurance, times were 44.5 days for white, 59.7 days for black women and 66.5 days for Hispanic women.

"We thought having health insurance would even the field among all women," researcher Heather Hoffman said in a statement. "Insured women should have had the same rapid evaluation regardless of race and ethnicity."

The study shows even further, the effects of race and ethnicity on a woman's health outcomes. And while researchers probe medical causes, there must be a deeper dive into the systemic bias and racism that exists among medical professionals and healthcare providers.

Far from a level playing field, women of color are battling against forces they can't see or control to have equitable healthcare.

So, now what?

For Our Sons Police Stops Are Part of Growing Up

2010-10-02T06:16:00.000-07:00

Guest Blog by Dionne Grayman

My son was small for his age, having a birthday late in the year and always looked younger than he was. We all do. It's the family "curse".

When he began high school at the age of 13, I insisted upon driving him. He insisted upon taking public transportation. Living in New York City, part of the rites of passage for most of our children includes independent travel through the hundreds of miles of subway tunnels, elevated train tracks and bus routes. Daunting to tourists and suburbanites in for a show but not to the savvy city kid raised on pre-paid MetroCards and sightings of rabbit-sized rats. I won the battle the first day; he, the second. Sort of. I made him ride the bus, which was about a 90 minute ride; the train would have saved him half an hour. I gave him money to call me when he got there and he was supposed to call me when he was leaving. This was before cell phones became the mandatory kid-accessory. That would come on his third day of school, September 11, 2001.

I wanted him to ride the bus because I figured he would be safer on the bus, more protected. He had made the football team and became friends with other kids on the team who lived in our neighborhood and rode the train. Friends with names like Big Lou and Tall Mike. For a month he begged to be allowed to take the train, assured me that he would be fine, introduced me to his "bodyguards" and I relented.

And it happened, shortly after.

But we had had the conversations. I gave him pop quizzes when he came out of the shower, at dinner, in between his second and third helpings, because you never approach a hungry male asking anything-and after I had hosed him awake. And he went to private school, had his whole life. Wore a uniform which was known to every transit employee between here and there. He was articulate, bilingual, could speak "adult" as well as he spoke "teenager". He was clean cut, no earrings, no tattoos, no saggy pants, no gaudy chains. In the fall and spring, he wore the hoodie of the moment, in the winter a black Northface and black Timberlands with his oxford and khakis, just like every other young man at the all-boy school he attended-Pinero, Caluccio, Feist, Harden, Schwartz. It would be hard to tell them apart if they were all on the school steps with their faces turned away from the street parents used for pickup.

And it happened anyway.

One day, he was stopped by the police on his way home. Asked to present identification, asked where he was headed. That was the first time. The second time, he was asked for identification and frisked. Then the third time, the fourth, and the fifth. And he was patted down, had his backpack gone through, returned to him, sometimes gently, most times not.

My brother-in-law is a New York City police officer, a detective within a homicide division. New York's Finest, they're called. He gave him a courtesy card issued to officers to give to their relatives in the event they have an interaction with a fellow cop. I have used the card and received a warning instead of an expensive fine. My son has had the card thrown into his face and onto the ground. His "dealings" with the police did not end with his graduation from high school-with honors. Did not end despite his admission into nine of the ten colleges he applied to. It has not ended with his being a college senior with 3.5 GPA in a dual major. My son is no angel; he can be surly, argumentative and obstinate. He has experimented with alcohol and marijuana. He listens to rap music, I have heard him curse and I'm pretty sure he's no longer a virgin. Your typical all-American boy. Except it's only typical for African American young men and other men of color to be subjected to this kind of police treatment.

In addition to the coming-of-age conversations parents have with their children, black parents have to add the "What to Do WHEN You Are Stopped By the Police" talk to the list of ones they have with their sons. We have to, for their safety and our sanity. Because in our collective memory, there's the horrifically mutilated body of Emmet Till. There's Amadou Diallo and Sean Bell. My son's name is Sean. And every single time he's stopped, I feel I have failed him and I have failed in the God given responsibility of protecting my child.

The saddest part of all of this is he'd begun to become "immune" to being stopped. He, like too many other men of color in this city, had become desensitized to being treated criminally. They take it as par for the course; they shrug it off and most will laughingly share their war stories. But listen closely and you can hear anger comingled with humiliation and a weary, reluctant acceptance.

Not exactly the stuff that dreams are made of.

Dionne Grayman is the founder of Mothers Empowered, a coalition of mothers who are in search of their best selves and committed to the business of making this world a better place for our children. At Mothers Empowered the mission is ME! A former high school English teacher, Dionne has taught the full spectrum of New York City's children ranging from incarcerated juveniles on Riker's Island to gifted students at one of the city's most prestigious high schools. She has also served on the executive board of the Community Education Council in District 13 in Brooklyn and is the co-vice president of the PS/MS 282 PTA Executive Board. Grayman holds a bachelor's degree in English and journalism, a graduate degree in special education, and has completed CCC's Community Leadership Course. Learn more about Mothers Empowered at www.mothersempowered.org

SisterSpace: I Will Not Write a Blog for Infant Mortality Awareness Month

2010-09-24T08:44:00.000-07:00

This is not a blog for infant mortality awareness month. Something so weighty deserves more than to be relegated to web log. I will not make any witty observations. I will not use any metaphors, similes, idioms, or analogies. There will be no alliteration or onomatopoeia used to help you get it.

There will be no opinions, only facts. The jarring sort that aren't typically welcome in a blog. This will not be entertaining. You will probably not "Like" this.

This is my virtual moment of silence for the babies who needlessly die every year. This is my silent cry in the blogosphere for greater awareness in the African American community where our babies are 2.3 more likely to die before their first birthday than in the white community. This risk exists for all black women regardless of income or education.

This is my anti-blog for the unborn who deserve to live to see their first birthday and my homage to those who didn't.

Currently, the national infant mortality rate for Black babies is 13.7 per 1,000, compared to a rate of 5.6 per 1000 for White babies, 3.5 per 1000 for Asian babies, and 5.3 to 6 per 1000 for Latino babies.

Black babies are four times as likely to die as infants due to complications related to low birth weight as compared to non-Hispanic white infants.

African Americans have 2.3 times the infant mortality rate as non-Hispanic whites.

African Americans had 1.8 times the sudden infant death syndrome mortality rate as non-Hispanic whites.

College- and graduate-school educated black mothers have a higher infant mortality rate than white moms who didn't finish high school.

The infant mortality rate for African American mothers with over 13 years of education was almost three times that of non-Hispanic white mothers.

Black women who get prenatal care in the first trimester have double the infant mortality rate of white mothers with first-trimester care.

Only 17 percent of all U.S. births were to African-American families, but 33 percent of all low-birth weight babies were African-American, according to one report.

Black women with similar levels of prenatal care as Hispanic women (generally less educated and with lower incomes than blacks) have higher rates of low birth weight, preterm deliveries, and infant mortality.

According to Dr. Michael Lu, assistant professor of obstetrics and gynecology and public health at UCLA, researchers have found that even when they control for such varied factors as poverty, housing, employment, medical risk, abuse, social support and so on, 90 percent of the differences in birth weight between black and white moms remains unaccounted for.

"Most studies have looked at black-white differences during pregnancy, for example, differences in prenatal care utilization or maternal behavior," he says. "What we're finding is that these differences really explain very little of the disparities in birth outcomes."

Sister Space: A Mother's Tale of Survival: Part 1

2010-09-10T14:39:00.000-07:00

A Sister's Story: Erica Simone Turnipseed was having a great pregnancy when she developed HELLP syndrome at 24 weeks. HELLP stands for Hemolysis or rupture of the red blood cells, Elevated Liver enzyme levels in the blood, and Low blood levels of Platelets. HELLP is similar to preeclampsia, toxemia and pregnancy-induced hypertension. Erica's blood pressure climbed to over 240/110, her kidneys failed, and a priest came in to absolve her of her sins. The last thing she remembered thinking as she lay on the operating table was, if I die will I go to heaven? Erica survived. Her baby, named Grace Ayodele Webb, lived a miraculous four days before she died. This is Erica's story:

"The day started normally but I didn't feel very good. But I thought it was something that I ate. I began to feel worse and I thought, something is not right. I went outside to catch a cab to the hospital but because of the rain and the heavy traffic the trip took nearly an hour. During the time in that cab, I went from discomfort to pain to continuous pain to the point where I was crying. I felt like something was really going wrong. When I finally got to the hospital there was a lot of protein in my urine and my blood pressure was rising.

The doctor said I had the symptoms of HELLP syndrome and I was given two steroid injections to help mature the baby's lungs so we can make it to twenty-seven weeks. To them twenty-seven weeks was the magic number for my baby's chance of survival.

I was in some sort of Twilight Zone. I had heard things about preeclampsia and HELLP syndrome but it was in the back of the pregnancy books and I hadn't gotten that far yet.

Things got progressively worse and during the night, the doctor came and said that they were going to have to take the baby immediately. My kidneys had shut down and my blood platelets were low.

A perinatologist came in and explained to me the prognosis for a 24-week-old fetus. There were what seemed like hundreds of people in this frenetic energy all around and you know it's all for you. A priest came in and gave me the Sacrament of the Sick, which is something they do if they think you might not make it. I realized that I was really, really ill. I sensed that at 24 weeks, they didn't expect the baby to live, but what was now clear was they weren't sure if I was going to live.

I heard them yell, "200/110."

I'm not a doctor but I know that is too high to be anybody's blood pressure. By this point I'm crying and thinking, this might be it. You get to a point where you can choose to fear death, but if it's going to come, it's going to come. A priest came and prayed over me and for me. He absolved me of my sins. And I told them that I wanted to donate my organs. When it was time for anesthesia, he told me to count to ten. I remember counting to three and that was it.

When I woke up, the first thing I heard was, "She's alive, Erica." It was my partner, Kevin. The baby had been baptized and he saw it. He said he heard her cry. She was under one pound. They wouldn't let me go see her. They said I was too ill. My pressure had gone up to 240 before they were able to stabilize me. That was very tough. How can you say that to a mother? Part of my recovery was to see her…

Read the rest of Erica's story next week in SisterSpace.

Erica Turnipseed-Webb, a graduate of Yale, is now a married mother of two other children and author of A Love Noire and Hunger, two critically acclaimed novels. She lives with her husband, Kevin Webb, in Brooklyn, New York. Her life-changing story appeared in The Mocha Manual to a Fabulous Pregnancy by Kimberly Seals Allers.

Do you have a pregnancy story you'd like to share on SisterSpace? Email me at kimberly@mochamanual.com

New Orleans' Lower Ninth Draws Tourists, Not Aid

2010-08-25T11:36:00.000-07:00

Recently I attended a conference on health disparities in communities of color. The National Health Policy Training Alliance for Communities of Color hosted over 40 journalists of all hues and ethnic origins to convene in New Orleans to discuss how we can better cover healthcare related issues and the health disparities that still plague our communities. For three days, we sat in a top floor of well-appointed hotel in the lovely French Quarter, having a lively discussion on how we can get better and more thorough coverage of the issues.

Turns out the real story about health disparities and racial inequities was but 20 minutes away, across the bridge and down Claiborne Blvd in the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans. The Lower Ninth ward was destroyed during Hurricane Katrina five years ago. The area was the hardest hit when the levees broke and the low-income community residents were the last to get help. The images of bodies floating through the water still haunt me.

One would have no idea of what is still going on in the Lower Ninth Ward by walking through the downtown area of New Orleans. I too, enjoyed walking up and down Bourbon Street, looking at all the new apartments, shops and restaurants that were alive and bustling in the downtown area. There, you would think Katrina never happened. The city looks like back to business as usual.

Tale of Two Cities, Still

I've never been one to take things on face value. It is my experience that in most urban environments there is almost always a tale of two cities, and the tale of the brown city that exists across the railroad tracks or the bridge or whatever socioeconomic divide exists in that particular locale, is almost always starkly different.

So when a few of the local community leaders came to address us, what they had to say about the Lower Ninth Ward was appalling but not surprising. They said that of the $90 million that FEMA allocated to rebuilding, that the Lower Ninth Ward has not received any money. Nobody has been told a definitive answer as to why.

They said the Lower Ninth Ward only has one working school for kindergarten through 12 grade with 750 students and a 450 student long waiting list. There are no hospitals in the area and God help you if you need emergency care and have to travel across the bridge and across town to get it.

They expressed their outrage that tour companies bring bus loads of people through the Lower Ninth Ward everyday to gawk at their despair, yet never sharing any of their profits or stopping to support local businesses. They said that many displaced residents would love to return, but can't because there are no schools and no real health care options for the elderly.

Concrete Steps Lead to Empty Lots

On my last day in New Orleans, instead of buying souvenirs and taking in the tourist traps, I asked a friend to drive me to the Lower Ninth Ward. It looked mostly like a wasteland with a few nice new homes put up. I saw plenty of concrete steps that once led to a house, but now only lead to a field of 5- foot-tall grass. I saw where do-gooders like Brad Pitt and other organizations have helped rebuild new and colorful housing, that quite frankly, ust looks weird sitting next to devastation.

But what I mostly saw was the biggest disparity of them all--the wealth disparity. Money given to help those who have and no money to those who don't. In fact, it is clear that the powers that be have no intention of rebuilding that community. To them, Katrina has become a tragic opportunity to rid the city of some of its poorest residents--I mean, really, who wants them around anyway. So why rebuild so they can return?

Now a new plan for the Lower Ninth Ward is in the works and its message is clear: Poor blacks need not apply. New developments and higher rents are on the horizon, but there are no jobs to support them. Even though blacks built that city, created its music and its food culture, the winds of economic racism have no regard for history. So the displaced stay displaced. And the disparities linger. In health and in life.

Note: Please watch Spike Lee's latest documentary, If God is Willing and Da Creek Don't Rise on HBO http://www.hbo.com/documentaries/if-god-is-willing-and-da-creek-dont-rise/synopsis.html for a real look at the Lower Ninth Ward and the impact of the BP oil spill.

The Importance of World Breastfeeding Week In My Piece of the World

2010-08-04T15:33:00.000-07:00

August 1-7 marks World Breastfeeding Week. The annual campaign, organized by the World Alliance for Breastfeeding Action, is the one week where over 170 countries worldwide pay attention to our breasts and their power to help our children.

It's no secret that I'm a huge advocate of breastfeeding as one of the most important things a woman can do to give her baby the best start in life and give herself some unparalleled health benefits. And the Black Maternal Health Project proudly supports breastfeeding and is deeply committed to understanding how we can increase breastfeeding rates among black women.

So while the campaign, now in its 19th year, speaks to the entire world, I'm speaking directly to my part of the world. The African American women who historically have had the lowest rates of breastfeeding for the recommended time periods or don't breastfeed at all.

For over 30 years, African American women have had the lowest breastfeeding rates, and though the numbers have greatly increased in recent years, black moms still have the lowest breastfeeding rates of all ethnicities. And when it comes to the gold standard of infant nutrition--six months of exclusive breastfeeding, among African Americans the rate is only 20% compared to 40% among whites.

Some of these forces have been brewing for decades. A long time ago, black women were notorious for nursing. In fact, slave owners used and purchased black women as wet nurses for their own children, often forcing these mothers to stop nursing their own infants to care for others. "On the one hand, wet nursing claimed the benefits of breastfeeding for the offspring of white masters while denying or limiting those health advantages to slave infants. On the other hand, wet nursing required slave mothers to transfer to white offspring the nurturing and affection they should have been able to allocate to their own children," writes historian Wilma A. Dunaway, in the book The African American Family in Slavery and Emancipation, published by Cambridge University Press. And since breastfeeding reduces fertility, slave owners forced black women to stop breastfeeding early so that they could continue breeding, often to health detriment of their infants, Dunaway writes.

But there's more to our story than a stunted and complex breastfeeding experience at the hands of slave owners hundreds of years ago, though many may argue that some vestiges of slavery still exist in the mindset of the black community. Aggressive marketing by the formula companies in the 1930s and 40s made formula feeding the choice of the elite, "the substance for sophisticates" --white or black. And who doesn't want to be like the rich and famous. That marketing continues to this day, down to the formula company-sponsored bag of goodies you probably received on the way out of the hospital. Then there's something I call the National Geographic factor--that is, most of the images we see of black women breastfeeding are semi-naked women in Africa whose lives seem so far away from the African American lifestyle and experience.

To help remedy the global situation BAWA takes aim at hospitals and other maternity care providers. This year the campaign focuses on "Just 10 Steps--the Baby Friendly Way" showcasing the 10 steps hospitals need to do to encourage breastfeeding. Those ten points include:

Have a written breastfeeding policy that is routinely communicated to all health care staff.

Help mothers initiate breastfeeding within a half-hour of birth.

Show mothers how to breastfeed, and how to maintain lactation even if they should be separated from their infants.

Give newborn infants no food or drink other than breastmilk unless medically indicated.

Practice rooming-in -- allow mothers and infants to remain together -- 24 hours a day.

Encourage breastfeeding on demand.

Give no artificial teats or pacifiers (also called dummies or soothers) to breastfeeding infants. (read all 10 points at www.worldbreastfeedingweek.org)

In our community, we need to talk and encourage each other more. And speak out. We still long for an African American role model in breastfeeding, like a Michelle Obama. In the meantime, if you are already on the breastfeeding bandwagon, tell others. Check out the "I Breastfeed Because . . . " campaign sponsored by Ameda, a leading breast pump maker. Mothers who are currently breastfeeding and or have in the past can log onto www.ibreastfeedbecause.com to upload 20-second videos that share the reasons why they chose to breastfeed.

The Importance of World Breastfeeding Week In My Piece of the World

2010-08-04T12:30:00.000-07:00

Have a written breastfeeding policy that is routinely communicated to all health care staff.

Help mothers initiate breastfeeding within a half-hour of birth.

Show mothers how to breastfeed, and how to maintain lactation even if they should be separated from their infants.

Give newborn infants no food or drink other than breastmilk unless medically indicated.

Practice rooming-in -- allow mothers and infants to remain together -- 24 hours a day.

Encourage breastfeeding on demand.

Give no artificial teats or pacifiers (also called dummies or soothers) to breastfeeding infants. (read all 10 points at www.worldbreastfeedingweek.org)

Sharing My Story: Post-Partum Depression

2010-07-21T11:12:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I went to visit a girlfriend who has been showing some signs of post partum depression. I trekked all the ways to Queens, with dinner, two able hands for baby-holding and diaper changing and my trademark sense of humor, ready to be a supportive friend.

Turns out, I have a lot to learn. Because what she really needed from me was the truth.

My truth.

And my truth (that I somehow nearly forgot) was that I struggled with my own frightening bout with post partum depression. One that led me to get professional help.

Today I am talking candidly about my own bout with post partum depression in the hopes of starting an open conversation among black women and more personally, to help my girlfriend. To show, there's no shame in my game. If one more of us openly talks about post partum depression, I'm hoping that more of us will keep talking and helping each other. And so I start with the mama in the mirror. Here goes:

I'm pretty sure I had some sort of post partum after both of my children. But with my daughter, it was actually a little scary. Very scary. At first, I didn't really think it was post partum because I wasn't having dramatic crying spells or feeling sad or hopeless. In fact, as you may know of my personal story, if the circumstances of my pregnancy didn't tip me over into clinical depression, then I figured I was straight. During the daytime, I was happy and proud. I had a lovely 3 bedroom, 2 bath apartment, my freelance career was doing well, I was proudly breastfeeding and staying at home with my newborn.

But at night I was gripped with fear. Like seriously, irrational fear. I remember vividly thinking someone was in my bathroom waiting to kill me. I remember hearing noises all night. At first, I thought, well, I'm in a new place. It's a big apartment and I'm all alone with a helpless baby, of course you are afraid.

But then my fears got out of control.

I started having keep-me-up-at-night fears of a fire. Once I packed a "fire" backpack for me and the baby and left it underneath the window I designated as our escape route. At the height of it, my brother or father had to come over every night and sleep at the apartment with me. I couldn't sleep on my own. The fear took over my nights and my sleep. My dreams were violent. Someone was always hurting me or my baby. My daydreams and night dreams were vivid. I saw it all playing out. It seemed so real. I was afraid to sleep. And remember frequently staying up all night to avoid the violent dreams.

Something was wrong. I kept thinking it would pass. But it didn't.

I was too ashamed to tell my friends. I thought I was going crazy.

And the strangest thing about my fear was that, true to who I am, I always had an action plan. I was never just a victim. When fears of fire consumed me, I packed a backpack with essentials and carefully plotted the best escape route. When I thought someone was breaking into my house, I crafted the most ingenius, homemade, home security devices. Some of which, now make me laugh. One of which is in my current home today.

One night, at my lowest point, I was so afraid and yet so sure that someone was going to break in that nigh and hurt us, I slept with a spray bottle full of bleach in my hands. That was my self defense plan.

I've never told anyone that.

The next day, I knew I needed to talk to somebody. And I did. My doctor gave me a referral.

In just a few sessions with a therapist, things really turned around for me. By talking to a stranger, I felt surprisingly free to be open, vulnerable and honest. Short version: One day, something clicked for me and I felt better. In the end, I did what I needed to do to get in the right mind to take care of my baby. And I'm hoping that any woman who reads this and is battling with any sort of anxiety or depression post baby or at any time in her life will do the same.

And that's my story. Do you have one? There's a girlfriend out there who needs to know.

The Problem with Alicia Keys. And Too Many Black Women Like Her.

2010-07-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

I just love Alicia Keys. On any given Saturday, you'll find my children and me closing out our usual Saturday morning dance party with a stirring rendition of "If I Ain't Got You," where we substitute each other's names in the chorus. My kid-friendly traveling CD features Alicia's live-out-your-dreams anthem "Unbreakable." And when I'm feeling unstoppable, Alicia's lyrics from Superwoman: "Still ,when I'm a mess, I still put on a vest, with an S on my chest. Oh yes, I'm a superwoman," really speak to me. Oh, and please don't get me all riled up about Empire State of Mind.

But I've got a growing problem or real concern about Alicia Keys and many black women like her when it comes to our pregnancies. A few weeks ago, I held my breath as I watched Alicia Keys climbing her preggers self on top of a piano at the BET Awards, albeit during an incredible tribute to Prince. But still. And then last weekend, she fell off her 4-inch heels and landed on her backside while performing at the Essence Music Festival in New Orleans.

I'm concerned because for over five years now, I've been on a personal mission to help black women have healthy pregnancies and healthy babies. That's what the Women's eNews Black Maternal Health Project is all about. When my first book, The Mocha Manual to a Fabulous Pregnancy (Amistad/HarperCollins) came out, it was the first of its kind, a hip and funny book to really talk to a new audience of savvy black women about the lifestyle issues and unique stressors that are affecting our pregnancy and birth outcomes.

Studies show that even successful, college educated black women are still twice as likely to have a low birth weight baby, twice as likely to have a pre-term baby and nearly three times more likely to die during childbirth than their white peers. Nobody knows the exact root cause of these disparities, and why education and class don't protect black women from poor birth outcomes as it does for white women.

But one of the biggest self destructive behaviors among black women is what I call the Strong Black Woman Syndrome. The exact same problem Alicia sings about in her Superwoman song. We notoriously carry our communities, we carry our families and we carry our pain, but we put an S on our chest and project a "strong" image regardless of how broken we are inside. In our culture we are raised to view "weakness" as a character flaw. We must be strong. Period.

Having that conditioning is helpful in so many scenarios. But it can be damaging during pregnancy. In my many years talking to black women about pregnancy and championing the black female's pregnancy and parenting experience at www.MochaManual.com, I am still struck by the number of black women who don't see pregnancy as any deviation from their normal state of being. They expect to be able to continue to work just as hard, to continue to carry others, and to not take special care of themselves. We work and work and work because that's what we do. And even while taking on the most phenomenal journey known to womankind, we act like indestructible machines that can just keep going and going, and not as fragile humans charged with shepherding a new life into the world.

Alicia, we love you! But as one hard working black woman to another, I'm personally begging you to ease up on work and the piano climbing and allow yourself to be still.

Still.

Respect the journey of pregnancy. We know you are a superwoman. But your baby needs you to be super careful, super mindful and super stress free. We've got plenty of your great music to hold us over. I just want you to focus on the most important production of your life.

Beyond the Baby Blues: Post Partum Depression and Black Women

2010-07-02T06:26:00.000-07:00

My girlfriend had a beautiful baby boy two weeks ago. Now she's having tearful meltdowns nearly every day.

I've tried to assure her that part of what she is experiencing is very normal. The hormonal freefall after birth can be so powerful. And the overwhelming nature of life with a newborn can break down even the strongest woman--even if it's your third child, as in my friend's case, or perhaps precisely because it is your third child! In fact, about 1 and 8 women experience some sort of postpartum depression within the first few months after childbirth.

But my Spidey senses are all in overdrive because I know black women have a special relationship with postpartum depression. For starters, we don't talk about it. In fact, depression in general, is a taboo topic in our community.

Yet, depression among black women is more common than most realize. Formal statistics on depression in African American women are either uncertain or non-existent because the research is scarce. But studies have indicated that we experience postpartum at a higher rate than white women.

After all, African-American women live with more depressing stressors. We are black and female and living in a society that frequently devalues our children and our culture and undermines the significant roles we play in our communities. And because we are so used to suiting up in our Strong Black Woman gear, we take it personally or as if we have somehow failed miserably when we just can't handle it or keep it together post baby. And we have rarely allowed ourselves to be damsels in distress, vulnerable or able to ask for help. But I'm here to tell you ladies that depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain, not a character defect or a moral failing.

With so many nuances as to how we process and respond to postpartum depression, I canvassed the Internet to find out exactly what researchers do actually know about black women and postpartum depression. It may not be groundbreaking stuff, but it is certainly eye-opening and worth sharing. So here goes:

Our postpartum depression may be a result of lack of social support and more child-related duties among other issues.

It is also associated with more physical issues (back pain, tiredness, headaches) in comparison to Caucasian women, according to one study.

Black women culturally view it as a sign of weakness and often have feelings of guilt that they can not live up to certain cultural ideas like the "Strong Black Woman."

We often treat it through the use of self-talk or by confiding in family and/or friends.

Is sometimes a secret, as African-American women may sometimes fear the cultural stigma attached to depression, as well as the negative consequences of confiding in the medical community. These negative consequences include past atrocities in the health care system, such as those illustrated by the film Miss Evers' Boys.

It is sometimes recognized in the African-American culture as not having faith in God, being possessed by demons or a form of punishment for wrongdoings.

In general, black women handle postpartum depression better in comparison to their white counterparts.

The problem may be nuanced and complex, but the solutions seem simple: more support.

In a study on race and postpartum emotions by the University of Iowa, the researchers found that "strong social support can serve as a buffer against postpartum depression, and that poor social support is a major predictor of postpartum depression.Past studies have also shown that Latina mothers tend to have more social support, while African-American women tend to have weaker support networks," the study said. The researchers speculate that these ethnic differences in social support might account for racial differences and the higher rate of depressed moods among black women during the postpartum period.

If you know a new mom, offer your support, beyond the, "hey girl, how are you?" phone call. I'm brushing up on my new baby skills, packing the hand sanitizer, my trademark good humor and some yummy take-out and heading to my girlfriend's house this week. Keep you posted!

Racist School Boards. Insensitive Teachers. Black Moms Have Their Hands Full

2010-06-17T09:07:00.000-07:00

Lately, I've been very concerned about some disturbing new reports coming out of our nation's school systems.

In Alabama, a teacher uses a hypothetical assassination of President Barack Obama as an example in a geometry lesson. The teacher later apologizes for his "very serious error," gets a formal reprimand and is ordered to take diversity training.

A North Georgia teacher allowed four students to don mock Ku Klux Klan outfits (they used SpongeBob Squarepants party hats under the sheets for that oh-so necessary cone effect) for a final project in a high school social studies class.

On a state level, The Texas State Board of Education, a Republican-dominated group, recently voted to 'rewrite history" in its textbooks and adopted a social studies and history curriculum that amends or waters down the teaching of the civil rights movement, religious freedoms, America's relationship with the U.N. and hundreds of other items. The suggested revisions include calling the Atlantic slave trade the "Atlantic triangular trade" instead and describing the civil rights movement as creating "unrealistic expectations of equal outcomes" among black and white Americans.

These are the things that really frighten me as an African American parent. There seems to be a strong tide to make black history invisible and I worry black children aren't too far behind on the list.

Thankfully, as a black mom, I've always thought it was my responsibility, not the schools, to teach my children black history. They never really got it right in schools anyway and only seemed to focus on slavery and Martin Luther King. But black history, even an incomplete version of it, really isn't for black children. It is really to help all children learn how diverse peoples have contributed to America's greatness and even to her not-so-great moments.

When one of our experiences is downplayed, rewritten or trivialized by teachers in a classroom or administrators on a school board, it is a sad day for all parents. Not just the African American ones. When educators make bone-headed decisions without thinking through the impact on all of the students, they have to be held accountable.

Meanwhile, every day I send my brown little boy and brown little girl to school, I hope they return without having their sense of self scarred or their history insulted. I hope their teachers are aware of their own biases (hey, we all have them) so that they can work past them for the sake of all the students. But lately, I've been losing faith.

And I give thanks that I don't live in Texas, where foolish men and women think rewriting history changes our present and future. Rewriting history books won't change the limitless future I'm creating for my children, but only shows me how in one more way, black parents have to really bring their A-game to our parenting journey. It also shows me, once again, the unique stressors that black women face in childrearing.

These are the subtleties that eat away at us and affect our birth outcomes and our overall health, despite prenatal care. These are the things that we have to recognize as relevant to our overall health and not just something we shrug off as part of the black experience. These are the things that make me recommit to a healthy lifestyle for myself and my children, so I can be here, strong, healthy and whole, to teach them at home, advocate for them at school and build their futures.

And no one will be able to rewrite that.

Breastfeeding Moms Found to Have Vitamin D Deficiency, Study Finds

2010-06-14T11:53:00.001-07:00

African American Moms at Higher Risk

We all know breastfeeding is best for mom and baby. But moms have to continue to practice excellent self care, by eating well while breastfeeding. A recent study found as many as two of three mothers in Cincinnati, Ohio, who breastfeed had insufficient blood levels of Vitamin D. In addition, three of four one-month-old infants whose mother breastfeed had Vitamin D insufficiency, according to the study by the Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center.

"Mothers who are Vitamin D deficient produce little or no Vitamin D in her milk and are unable to give a baby all of the Vitamin D that he needs," says Adekunle Dawodu, M.D., a physician in the Center for Global Child Health at Cincinnati Children's and lead author of the study. "Mothers and babies who breastfeed need Vitamin D supplements to ensure optimum health."

Dr. Dawodu presented his study recently at the annual meeting of the Pediatric Academic Societies in Vancouver, Canada.

The study focused on 120 mother-infant pairs who were enrolled in a global human milk research collaborative. The prevalence of Vitamin D insufficiency in mothers was 66.4 percent at four weeks postpartum and the prevalence of deficiency was 16.8 percent at four weeks. The prevalence of insufficiency in infants was 76 percent at four weeks and the prevalence of deficiency was 18 percent.

Major results of Vitamin D deficiency include brittle bones, rickets and increased risk of respiratory infections. Vitamin D deficiency is particularly high among African Americans, so black women have to extra vigilant.

"In addition to taking Vitamin D supplements, people can also make sure they are getting modest sunlight exposure," Dr. Dawodu says.

Your commitment to having a healthy baby and a healthy you doesn't stop at delivery. Breastfeeding moms have to continue to eat well, drink plenty of fluids and take vitamin supplements, if necessary, to maintain their own optimal health.

The Black Maternal Health Project is all about embracing the mother, and just as important, asking more mothers, breastfeeding or not, to do a better job of embracing themselves.

What's in Your Womb? Pre-programming for the rest of your life, that's what.

2010-05-05T08:56:00.000-07:00

Do you have heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes or high cholesterol? Like many people, you're probably thinking that your diet, exercise (or lack of it), or weight play a significant contributing factor. And they likely do. But there's something else to consider. Are you ready? Here's the 64 million dollar question: Were you a low-birth weight baby?

Did you know that being a low birth weight baby could make you more susceptible to having heart disease or high blood pressure 40 or 50 years later?

This amazing nugget relates to a new discovery in epigenetics, called fetal programming. Fetal programming refers to the process whereby a stimulus or insult at a critical point in fetal development creates permanent changes in the structure and function of the baby's vital organs, leaving lasting or even lifelong consequences for health.

The idea of fetal programming was first introduced by Dr. David Barker and his colleagues at the University of Southampton in England. Barker and his team made a connection to poor fetal growth inside the womb (which resulted in low-birth weight) and coronary heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure, diabetes, high cholesterol and a many more chronic adult illnesses later in life.

Barker hypothesized that similar to programming a computer, a baby's heart and other vital organs are actually "programmed" inside the womb. If something negative happens during pregnancy then those organs may not get the proper programming and never fully function at their best over a lifetime.

It's an amazing way of thinking about the long term effects of pregnancy beyond just what happens at delivery. It was one of the many Aha! moments I had last week, as Dr. Michael Lu, from UCLA, presented on the Life Course Perspective as part of the Women's eNews Black Maternal Health Conference (click here to watch the webcast)

Lu discussed the "Barker hypothesis" and showed that although it was initially met with some skepticism in the scientific community, over the past decade more and more scientific evidence is building to support this idea.

Two key areas that Dr. Lu highlights:

Maternal stress linked to ADHD in children. When a woman is stressed out during pregnancy, her baby is immersed in a stress hormone called cortisol. Studies indicate that over exposure to cortisol in the womb results in permanent changes in the structure and function of the fetal brain. There are more and more studies linking maternal anxiety and stress during pregnancy to neurological disorders in children, including ADHD.

Maternal nutrition linked to childhood obesity. Poor fetal nutrition cause permanent alterations in key organs such as the pancreas, kidneys and blood vessels which can lead to diabetes, hypertension and heart disease later in life. In addition, poor fetal nutrition affects the genes the help the body use and store energy more efficiently. They are called the "thrifty genes." In our food-crazy society, those turned on "thrifty genes" mean that body will hang onto to every calorie possible, predisposing a child to a lifelong struggle with obesity.

The point is, so much is happening in the womb that affects your baby not just at their birth but for the rest of life. And if we really want to prevent obesity and heart disease in children and adults, then we have to go back to the womb and make sure those organs are properly optimized from the start.

Learn more about what you can do to prepare your womb for optimal fetal programming by reading Dr. Lu's book.

Black women are dying! Enough scaremongering, it's time for solutions!

2010-04-27T09:22:00.000-07:00

Lately, I've been extremely frustrated by all the news reporting about maternal mortality. Yes, it is a terribly frightening and frighteningly embarrassing issue. Women are dying during childbirth for preventable reasons, and African American women at even more shocking rates and something must be done. Like now.

A recent study by Amnesty International, entitled "Deadly Delivery", reports that deaths from pregnancy and childbirth in the United States have doubled in the past 20 years--from 6.6 per 100,000 live births in 1987 to 13.3 deaths per 100,000 live births in 2006. Pregnant women and new mothers are dying because of "systemic failures" in the current health system, the Amnesty report said.

The alarming data on maternal mortality is even more shocking for African- American women. We are three to four times more likely to die during childbirth than white American women. And even wealthy black American women have a higher rate of mortality during childbirth than wealthy white women.

Yeah. It's serious.

Now I understand the power of fear as a coercive tool in the media world and in political circles, but my personal fear is that all the negative reports and doom and gloom coverage makes the situation seem hopeless. It makes women, particularly Black women, feel powerless to a force that no one can succinctly explain or otherwise tell them how to prevent.

People don't get behind hopeless. Research money doesn't come to hopeless. And the right kind of awareness that actually empowers women to have healthy childbirths and live healthier lives overall doesn't come from hopeless. It comes from hope.

That's why I'm so excited about the work of Dr. Michael Lu, an associate professor in both the UCLA School of Public Health and the David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA, and one of the influential thought leaders who's talking about new solutions to the maternal health problem. It's pretty clear the old ones aren't working.

Dr. Lu's work focuses on the "life course perspective," a simple yet groundbreaking premise that rests on one simple truth: you cannot correct the outcomes of childbirth simply by looking at the 40 week gestational period. Saying that black women need better prenatal care is a start but not the complete answer. We need a longer term "life course perspective" to address the issue, which includes rethinking how healthcare is delivered, how we look at life stressors and how we get back to focusing on mothers and communities.

I've been a fan of Dr. Lu for some time. In fact, his work was one of the research inspirations for writing my first book, The Mocha Manual to a Fabulous Pregnancy (Amistad/HarperCollins). At the time, it was the first-of-its-kind book for African American women that looked beyond the nine months of pregnancy to offer advice on all areas of life that could affect a woman's pregnancy outcome from her finances, relationships, life stressors, cultural taboos and her medical history. It was the "all you" approach to pregnancy for black women, and I'm grateful to Dr. Lu's work for inspiring me to develop that concept.

I'm also very grateful and excited that Dr. Lu will be speaking this week at our Black Maternal Health conference and sharing his insights and answering your questions on what we need to do now to close the gap in maternal and infant health disparities for African American women.

Please join us on April 28th at our NYC offices at 12:30 p.m.(simply rsvp with your name and affiliation to rosemary@womensenews.org) or click here http://www.ustream.tv/channel/wenews to watch live via our webcast.

We've read the depressing headlines. It's time we start talking about solutions. Please be a part of the conversation.

Hatred After Health Care Reform. Racism Rears Its Head

2010-04-07T09:24:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, where exactly are all the people who vehemently declared after President Obama's election that we were living in a post-racial America? Please stand up.

Seriously.

Let's recap a recent scene: The president of the United States passes a historic bill to reform health care in this country and actually save lives and protestors resort to allegedly hurling racial slurs at black lawmakers? I won't even mention the choice words being thrown at our nation's commander in chief? Protesters, what about the million things that are supposedly wrong with the bill? Why not use those as your sticking points?

It really goes to show how far we have not come in this country. Whenever there is passionate disagreement, which, by the way is a good thing and what makes this country great, someone somewhere is going to resort to race. It's as if racial bias consistently sits just under the skin of the culture of this country, and if anything slightly irritates or pricks that delicate skin, the ugly truth just comes oozing out.

Then you wonder why I fear for my black children. The reason: I'm in fear of many white parents, who are acting out their racial biases for everyone to see on CNN, YouTube, at Tea Party conventions and on the local news for crying out loud. What kind of messages are these children getting at home and then bringing to the playground?

In fact, the whole health care reform process has been an embarrassing stain on our reputation. As I watched the drama play out in total "SMH" mode, I desperately tried to extract a few lessons:

The ridiculous myths about death panels and the alleged slippery slide into socialism reminded me how important it is for me to teach my children to be independent thinkers willing to research the facts on their own, rather than have that dangerous herd mentality where people foolishly rally behind buzz words that speak to their issues and biases.

The fact that not one Republican took a stand for better healthcare said to me that partisan politics was more important than saving lives. I hope my children never lose their humanity in their quest to get ahead. I will remember to remind them of that.

And watching the racial slurs and Obama assassination threats on Twitter (even allegedly by two conservative blacks, no less) reminded me of something my Daddy taught me long ago: people who resort to mud-slinging and in-the-gutter tactics, are desperate and pathetic because they really have nothing of substance to say.

Our so-called post-racial America has a lot of road ahead of it. In the meantime, the impact of racism is still seen everywhere from our political circles to our health disparities to our educational system.

Memo to Michelle Obama: Big Food Makers Don't Give a Fructose About Our Kids

2010-03-24T09:25:00.000-07:00

I love Michelle Obama. Her strength, professionalism, sass and savvy are enviable. And as a mom, I can only applaud her efforts to reduce the embarrassingly high obesity rates in this country. Earlier this month she spoke at the Grocery Manufacturers Association meeting and asked big food companies like General Mills, Kraft Foods and Coca-Cola to produce more healthful food. What chutzpah! Then she went one step further by asking the food companies to then market the healthy food to children, instead of the red-dye, high sodium, high calories crap they usually market to our children.

Now I can certainly understand that the First Lady has to ask everybody to join in the fight against obesity. It is certainly an all-hands-on-deck type of goal. But if she really thinks big food companies will actually do something , then I'm a little concerned. I'm hoping she figured, "well, the event is in D.C. and I won't have to miss school pick up so what the heck."

The truth is, big food makers are not going to kill their cash cow by actually making healthier food, especially when making the unhealthy stuff is so cheap and rakes in serious money. I mean, hey, if it ain't broke, why fix it? That was like asking the healthcare companies to support health care reform with a public option. It was never going to happen. These corporations are big businesses looking for a profitable business model that works. Remember the multi-billion dollar kick in the bottom line it took for the tobacco industry to actually clean up their act? Big business, no matter what public relations spin they try to put on it, only acts in their own self interest. That interest is to keep shareholders happy and CEOs happier with fat paychecks and even fatter bonuses. My child's health is the last thing on the mind.

Thankfully it is the first thing on my mind. That's why it is really my responsibility and that of every other parent to make sure their child has a healthy diet and an active lifestyle. This is particularly true in our community where studies show that almost 36 percent of black children between the ages of six and eleven are overweight, and more than 19 percent are considered obese. Among twelve- to nineteen-year-olds, 40 percent are overweight and nearly 24 percent are obese.

More importantly, we as black mothers have to set a good example by modeling healthy living and healthy eating ourselves. Our own health impacts our children from pregnancy through adulthood.

I appreciate that the First Lady has to make all the appropriate rounds (and like I said, no out of town trip required) but no parent or reasonable adult should ever expect big business (or government, for that matter) to do what we need to do for ourselves and our children. That is, take back our power as parents and as the CNO (chief nutrition officer) in our homes. When your child begs for unhealthy crap, try this novel approach and simply utter, "No!" and actually mean it. Or better say, yes, but only once in a while.

Attention world, here's how to get the food makers on board: Stop buying the unhealthy stuff. When they lose the financial incentive for making unhealthy food options then they will stop. Period. When we educate ourselves as parents so that, as Mrs. Obama noted, we don't fall for gimmicks such as a food maker marketing one healthy aspect (such as adding one gram of fiber) while doubling the calories, then they will be forced to clean up their act. Until then it's just photo opps, PR spin and back to the sodium-laden processed foods with ingredients you can't even pronounce (Someone please ask the good folks at Hooked on Phonics to produce a special edition to help us get through our food labels).

That's fine for them. But we, as moms, have plenty of work to do. Let's get down to our big business.

Saving Ourselves: We Need Our Village Back

2010-03-17T09:30:00.000-07:00

I was walking in Harlem one day and I heard and saw a young African American boy, about 10 years old, being scolded by his father. Like most kids, it seemed like his father was telling him to do something he didn't want to do. The exchange escalated to the point where the father was yelling at his son and it became more intense. The rest of the conversation–-voices elevated, high intensity, passersby watching-–went something like this:

Young Black Boy: "I wish I could kill myself." (Repeat, repeat, repeat.)

Father: "Oh yeah, what good would that do?"

Young Black Boy: "At least I could be in heaven and I wouldn't have to be around you."

I stop in my tracks.

I couldn't move. The father continued to yell at the boy, while the mother stood by quietly holding onto a baby stroller.

Now I know emotional blackmail when I hear it and I could see this boy's pain in his face and in his body language. It was one of those moments when my mommy instinct told me to run over there, hug that boy and tell him millions of moms are rooting for him and his success.

I would add that this life here on earth can be beautiful and peaceful and full of possibilities. "And that, even when it isn't, you don't ever give up."

I wanted to run over to his mother with hugs as well and an understanding and empathetic look that would send the message, "I know, sister, it ain't easy" and then maybe share some of my own struggles in childrearing.

I knew none of these options was allowed.

Back in the day, it was a given in most black neighborhoods that everybody on the block or apartment building was responsible for the wellbeing of each child. Every neighbor could tell you off or tell your parents what you were up to (and their concern was welcome) and a few select neighbors may have had punishment or spanking privileges. Your child was everybody's child. Your wellbeing was everybody's well-being.

But, on that day, I knew that our "village" mentality has long disappeared and that I needed to mind my own business, stop standing on the corner acting as if I was lost (when I was really engaged in the drama) and keep it moving to my car.

I drove off very sad that day. I was sad to hear that beautiful young boy declare that he thought death could be better than his life. I was sad to know that at a time when we need other mothers, aunties, grandmothers and sometimes well-meaning strangers more than ever before to help us raise powerful and productive black children that we have rid ourselves of these traditions. To our own detriment, I believe.

At the time when we need full community support to improve our individual health as black women and to have healthier babies, we have instead resorted to isolationism and leave-me-alone-ism, followed by do-nothing-ism. It's a dangerous combination.

But on that day, I was even more upset with myself. I felt I should have said something, done something anything, despite the consequences. I even dreamed about it--my negligence haunting me in my sleep.

I wonder, if we can start showing African-American mothers that we care, understand and support each other, can we bring “the village” back? If we add community responsibility to the basic tenets of personal responsibility then would you take a stand for me to have a healthy lifestyle? If we rewrite the rules for what actually defines “my own business,” and say every African-American child is connected and if yours fails, mine fails so therefore, by some very fundamental rules of logic and humanity, it is indeed very much “my business,” can we bring it back?

Can we????

My Sister in the Struggle to Reduce Infant Mortality

2010-03-11T09:32:00.000-08:00

There are sisters. And there are sisters. I consider Phyllis Rabinowitz to be my sister in the struggle to save infants who never make it to their first birthday--a cause I am passionately committed to. Phyllis joined the fight after enduring a mother's worst nightmare.

On July 21, 2006, her daughter Rebecca Ava died at 8-day-old after being misdiagnosed in the emergency room. The trauma began with their ER experience.

"The doctor was so dismissive. He was like, 'This is just a common cold. I've seen children for 20 years. I've got to get to a real emergency down the hall.' . . . No matter what my husband and I asked for, the whole experience was very condescending. We knew she was sick," Phyllis recalls.

They refused to readmit her. By the next morning baby Rebecca was septic and bleeding from the nose. Phyllis will never forget the sight of her husband desperately performing CPR and the seemingly endless ride in the ambulance, but baby Rebecca didn't make it. The Rabinowitz's ordered a state autopsy, independent of the hospital, which revealed that baby Rebecca had a common enteroviral infection, not a common cold. Had baby Rebecca's symptoms been properly diagnosed and treated she would still be here today.

Instead Phyllis and her husband, Andrew, learned in the most horrible way that most emergency room physicians are not properly trained in pediatric emergency care. In fact, very few hospitals have all the necessary equipment to properly treat babies.

"Like any parent, we were profoundly sad and angry. I was in a deep depression. We started researching for answers. We knew something was not right. We learned how all ERs are not created equal when it comes to being ready to treat infants," Phyllis says.

And then, sitting in their den, with supportive friends and family, Phyllis and her husband decided to do something. The R Baby Foundation http://www.rbabyfoundation.org/index.php was born with the distinct purpose of saving as many babies lives as possible, particularly those have some sort of viral infection in their first month of life, by improving pediatric care in emergency rooms across the country.

Today their work includes, raising awareness around infant mortality and emergency room care, providing training opportunities for anyone who touches a baby, providing life-saving equipment to hospitals and parent education (check the website for a soon-to-be-released 10-page guide for parents).

I'm a proud supporter of the R Baby Foundation and I am always inspired by Phyllis' commitment to teach parents how to advocate for their children. This for me is especially important in the African American community, where the quality of the healthcare we receive is often tainted by bias, stereotypes and living in underserved communities.

This year, the MochaManual team and I will be once again participating in the R Baby Foundation's Mother's Day Run/Walk http://www.rbabyrunwalk.org/Markslist/ext/rba/home.do?masterCampaignId=3130 on Sunday, May 9th in Central Park, New York City, to raise awareness and funds to improve emergency pediatric care for babies. There are plenty of activities for the whole family. Visit www.mochamanual.com for details for our team. What a great way to start my Mother's Day!

As for life after loss, Phyllis said it best: "My baby only lived 8 days, but she's in my heart everyday. And she inspired us to help save other babies so they could live their lives."

Text 4 Baby! : New Service Delivers Info to Moms to Be

2010-03-03T09:42:00.000-08:00

I'm all for getting information out to expecting moms by any means necessary--especially when it's new ways to reach African American women with the information they need to have healthy pregnancies. That's why I was really excited to hear about the new Text4Baby http://text4baby.org/ service.

At first, I thought, why didn't they have this when I was pregnant? But enough of my envy. It's great to have timely information, practical tips and friendly reminders on your mobile phone. We're always attached to them anyway. Heck, we've invented a whole new texting language that leaves many of us pausing and stumped when we have to fully type out an actual word for a work-related email.

What's even more remarkable about this project is that it represents an unprecedented coming together of the government and the private sector (pause for shocking gasps!) using new technology (double gasps!) to actually help improve maternal health among underserved women (you know what to do now).

But it's true. Text4Baby is the first ever free mobile health service in the United States, and it sends free text messages to pregnant women and new moms through their first year. It also really shows the power of mobile phones and other technology to get powerful information to people who need it most. Not everyone has a home computer, but nearly everyone these days has a mobile phone.

All you have to do is text BABY to 511411 (or BEBE for Spanish) to get three free text messages each week just right for your due date or your baby's age. These messages focus on a variety of topics related to maternal and child health, including birth defects prevention, immunization, nutrition, seasonal flu, mental health, oral health and safe sleep. Text4baby messages also connect women to prenatal and infant care services and other resources, if you need them.

Please tell everyone you know. Underserved, overserved, supersized or emphasized. This service is great for all moms!

And holds great promise of things to come. " Text4Baby demonstrates the ability of mobile phones to inform and engage people to help them live healthier lives. These same tools can be applied to many of America's big health care challenges, " said Paul Meyer, chairman and president of Voxiva, the mobile health platform provider for the service.

Here's hoping.

To make this amazing resource happen The National Healthy Mothers, Healthy Babies Coalition http://www.hmhb.org/ (I'm a big fan of their work) collaborated with White House Office of Science and Technology Policy, the Department of Health and Human Services and Department of Defense Military Health System. Johnson and Johnson is a major sponsor as is Johnson Baby. Then the wireless carriers joined the party and voluntarily agreed to distribute the text messages for free. (Participating carriers include: Alltel, Assurance Wireless, ATandT, Boost Mobile, Cellular South, Cellcom, Centennial Cellular, Cincinnati Bell, Metro PCS, N-Telos, Sprint Nextel, T-Mobile, U.S. Cellular, Verizon Wireless and Virgin Mobile USA--if you're carrier isn't on this list, switch now. It's a bad message (not text) to moms, if they didn't jump on this boat! )

There's a critical mission to be taken on to improve maternal health in this country. Infant mortality rates in the U.S. are embarrassing at best and abysmal in the African American community. And if a mobile phone, fax, wooden spoon or pot and pan can help. Then I'm all in.

ConTEXTually yours,

Kimberly

Vanity Fair's Cover Sends a Dangerous Message to Young Black Girls

2010-02-24T09:46:00.000-08:00

I often find it stressful to see how the media stereotypes black women or how it sends subliminal yet painful messages to our children. I had this unsettling feeling recently when looking at the latest issue of Vanity Fair heralding the next generation of Hollywood starlets.

It was bad enough that they couldn't (or didn't try) to find at least one person of color to include in their annual "New Hollywood" spread in the March issue. They've been taking a little heat for this ridiculous oversight. What about Gabourey Sidibe from "Precious" and Zoe Saldana? Even as an Avatar, she was still in one of the highest grossing movies of the year. Or even Penelope Cruz.

I could have stomached the photo spread, I'm pretty much used to African Americans being excluded from mainstream Hollywood. But they really went too far with the descriptive language in the accompanying story with each waiflike actress getting her respective props for "downy-soft cheeks," a "button nose," "patrician looks and celebrated pedigree," "dewy, wide-eyed loveliness," or "Ivory-soap-girl features." Ivory soap-girl features???

But is this Vanity Fair's journalistic failure and bad PR problem (hitting the stands during Black History Month no less. The horror!!) or just an accurate depiction of hot Hollywood these days?

Either way, as a mom raising a daughter, it sends dangerous messaging to all girls in general and African American girls, in particular. We've often criticized the beauty industry for their unrealistic images of Barbie-like girls and women. We've told young girls they are beautiful as they are in all shapes, sizes, skin tones and features (ivory soap or not), but then stories like these show the reality of the world all of our girls are growing up in. And what a challenge we have as moms to counteract these influences to raise confident, self-assured black girls who love their bodies, their skin, their hair and everything in between.

Quite frankly, I'm no fan of Hollywood lately, anyway. And if Sandra Bullock wins an Oscar for The Blind Side, I will be on a very long personal boycott of the award show. I mean, yet another movie about a (albeit well intentioned) white woman saving a large, menacing in appearance, from the hood with nobody else, black person. This blog isn't long enough for me to list the stereotypes in that Hollywood gem (Or in movies like Dangerous minds, Freedom Writers, The Soloist. etc.). And this is Oscar-worthy movie making??

Puh-leeze.

Attention Hollywood: there a thousands of equally inspirational stories of African Americans saving themselves (gasp!) or white people too (double gasp!), but those don't get told because they don't fit into your stereotype of who we are.

But I digress. Slightly.

My point is Vanity Fair has a problem and Hollywood has an even bigger problem. When a major media outlet ignores its responsibility to represent all its readers and its messaging to the young girls who aspire to be in Vanity Fair (or Hollywood), that's just irresponsible journalism. Read: only "button noses" and ivory-soap girls need apply.

Hollywood on the other hand has a more deeply rooted issue that concerns me as mom. For years extremely talented black female actresses like Halle Berry, Regina King, Jada Pinkett Smith, Kerry Washington, Sanaa Lathan, Kimberly Elise, Nicole Ari Parker, Lynn Whitfield, Lela Rochon (I could do this for three more pages . . . ) have lamented the dearth of quality movie roles (no crackheads

please) available to black actresses. Meanwhile, Jennifer Aniston (no disrespect, I'm a huge fan Rachel)has played the same exact character 50 million times with no end in sight.

Thankfully, my own little black girl has not mentioned any dreams of a Hollywood career because, even in this "Yes We Can" era, I'd feel some parenting compulsion to say, "probably not, sweetie." I wish I didn't feel that way. But this very "fair" article only confirms my fears.

Unfortunately for us all, Vanity Fair did a great job of highlighting the inconvenient truth of exactly how Hollywood is. New or old. And I find that reality very, very stressful.

Black Motherhood: Celebrating Our History, Redefining Our Experience

2010-02-19T09:47:00.000-08:00

February is all about reflecting on black history. As a mother, our black history is a tale of troubling beginnings followed by triumphant gains. Of course, I'll never forget the moment Michelle Obama became First Lady of the United States. She epitomizes everything modern black motherhood is about, career success, loving partnership, and commitment to being the mom-in-chief of your own family command center.

But getting to Michelle Obama has been a long and sometimes troubling journey. The black motherhood experience in this country had a painful start with lingering effects that still hover overhead today. First, let's go back. As enslaved black mothers we were viewed as breeders not humans and we had no control over our experience in motherhood or our children. As slaves, our children were ripped from our bosoms and sold as we stood helpless in despair.

"Labor of Love, Labor of Sorrow: Black Women, Work and the Family from Slavery to Present" by Jacqueline Jones http://www.amazon.com/Labor-Love-Sorrow-Slavery-Present/dp/0465037569 details how pregnant slaves were forced to lie face down in a specially dug impression in the ground when they were whipped. Perhaps in the demented mind of the slave owner, he was simultaneously protecting his economic investment in the fetus while still punishing the mother.

Our experience as black mothers was always laced with pain.

But we always wanted more for our children. And even as freed-men and -women, it was also clear that we saw the role of mother as tantamount to preserving our families, our communities and to the progression of the black race. Contrary to popular belief, we have a history of being thoughtful and resourceful about our duty and power as mothers.

Witness this excerpt from a speech by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, a 19th century African American abolitionist, teacher, women's rights advocate, writer and poet. She spoke these words on November 15, 1892 in a speech called Enlightened Motherhood, an address to the Brooklyn Literary Society.

"The work of the mothers of our race is grandly constructive. It is for us to build above the wreck and ruin of the past more stately temples of thought and action. Some races have been overthrown, dashed in pieces, and destroyed; but today the world is needing, fainting, for something better than the results of arrogance, aggressiveness, and indomitable power. We need mothers who are capable of being character builders, patient, loving, strong, and true, whose homes will be uplifting power in the race. This is one of the greatest needs of the hour."

In 1902, the book Twentieth Century Negro Literature, included an essay on the responsibilities of educated black women on the black race written by Sarah Dudley Petty, a writer, teacher and preacher's wife. What were her thoughts on black motherhood?

"A faithful, virtuous and intelligent motherhood will elevate any people . . . True patriotism, obedience and respect for law, both divine and civil, the love and yearning for the pure, the sublime and the good, all emanate from mother's personality . . . I would urge then, as the first prerequisite for our work, a pure, pious and devoted motherhood."

Years later, our quest to define motherhood moved to the television screen. When I was growing up in the late 1970s and 1980s we looked to successful working women like Claire Huxtable on the Cosby Show and Vivian Banks on the Fresh Prince of Bel Air for a glimpse into what black motherhood looked like. Every Thursday night on television, Claire Huxtable, Esq, showed a generation of future lawyers, doctors and accountants that upwardly mobile black women could indeed have it all. We could raise five kids without a nanny, take care of a house, maintain a high-powered career, be adored by our husband and still look glamorous and sexy. Whether having it all is truly possible for any woman (white, black or green) is still debatable, but this was new territory for black women. For decades, this was something that only seemed possible for white women.

This black history month, I'm asking all black mothers to remember our history as women who carried our families and communities. Mothers who didn't listen when the world said we were thoughtless breeders and our children were mere commodities to be bought or sold. In more recent history black mothers have been publicly shamed as crack mothers, welfare queens, and the face of "baby mama drama." Black single motherhood is blamed for all sorts of social ills from crime to drugs to "wilding" teens. And black mothers are often represented in popular culture as neck-rolling domineering household managers who run circles around our men. Even the critically acclaimed movie, "Precious" has raised eyebrows for perpetuating ideas of black women as abusive mothers.

But I'm asking you to stay true to what you know: These stereotypes are very far from the truth. In truth, black women today have redefined black history and created a new conversation about our roles as mothers. For example, when I watched the Brady Bunch and Happy Days and reruns of Leave It To Beaver, the subtle messaging was that being a stay at home mom and catering to your child's every need was a white woman's pleasure. Black women have always worked--as slaves, as cleaners, as teachers, as doctors, as lawyers. Even our TV mamas (Claire Huxtable included) always worked.

Today more and more black women are stay at home moms (myself included), we have robust national organizations like Mocha Moms http://mochamoms.org/ to support women who are making motherhood their career (even if just for a few years or so).

This shift in our motherhood experience may seem subtle, but in the framework of our history, it is groundbreaking. And thrilling. It not only speaks to how far we have come as a people, but how far we have come as black mothers, who went from having no control over our children to taking control of our children, our lives, and our families' financial future. We now have varied and different motherhood experiences yet we still know we are doing important work that goes well beyond our home.

As we celebrate our history as black Americans, take a moment to reflect and celebrate your history as a black mother. Take a moment to celebrate you!

A Plus-Sized Problem: Black Women and Obesity

2010-02-16T09:55:00.000-08:00

She enters the stage in a revolving pyramid and haze of smoke. Dressed in shiny gold wide-legged pants and a matching gold jacket, she confidently walks to center stage.

In a boisterous voice she calls for all the "fat girls" to stand up and take a bow. It's the beginning of a popular and very funny stand-up routine of Mo'Nique, Golden Globe winner and comedy star, a routine where she spends a lot of time making fun of skinny girls--I won't use her exact words in this family friendly blog.

Suffice to say, Mo'Nique made a name for herself in the stand up circles as the poster child of "big girls" and quickly became one of America's best-loved plus sized personalities. She even penned the New York Times bestselling book, "Skinny Women Are Evil: Notes of a Big Girl in a Small-Minded World," published by Simon and Schuster.

I gotta admit, watching her comedy clips on YouTube--the act is very funny. But really obesity is no laughing matter.

Now I know we've never entertained the same body image perspectives as white women. Our families are full of Big Mamas, robust Aunties and other big women who doled out good food and good love, both in earnest portions. And let's face it: Black men tend to like us with ample thighs and a little "junk in the trunk," as they say. Or as my Granny would say, "Don't nobody want a bone, but a dog."

But things are getting beyond a little healthy meat on the bones. Overweight and obesity has increased for all Americans across the board. It's no wonder, President Obama recently announced a new obesity reduction initiative to be spearheaded by First Lady Michelle Obama.

The problem is particularly pronounced in our community. Nearly 70 percent of African Americans are overweight compared to 62 percent of white Americans. Among black women the statistics are reveal a greater difference. About 78 percent of black women age 20-74 are overweight, compared to 57 percent of white women in that same age group. Fifteen percent of black women are classified as severely obese, compared to 5 percent of white women.

The culprits in our community are typical: poor dietary choices, lack of healthy or organic food options in many urban areas, lack of physical activity or exercise and our greater acceptance of larger body types.

The ramifications can't be ignored. In pregnancy, being overweight or obese can lead to pregnancy complications and a difficult labor and delivery. The risk of a pregnant woman of being hospitalized goes up four times if she's overweight.

The March of Dimes Task Force on Nutrition and Optimal Human Development presented a report indicating that women who are overweight or obese are 30 to 40 percent more likely to have a baby who has major birth defects such as those that affect the brain, heart, and digestive system. Among the most common obesity-related birth defects are neural tube defects, heart defects, and abdominal wall defects. Folic acid supplements, usually effective in preventing these conditions, may not be as protective in overweight women, according to some studies.

Beyond our babies, obesity often leads to heart disease and many other problems in black women. This is not about a number on the scale; it's about being healthy. It's time for big girls and skinny girls and everyone in between to come together for all girls.

Michelle Obama's Plan: Mothers Need Apply

2010-02-11T09:50:00.000-08:00

Soy milk invaded my childhood at age 6 and not because I particularly preferred it. Rather my mom bought it, packed it in the fridge, and drank it. And because I adored and mimicked my mom, I drank soy milk with enthusiasm.

This past Tuesday, thoughts of soy milk and my mother came to mind as I attended Michelle Obama's White House kick-off of "Let's Move," her multi-year, multi-agency, and era-changing plan to fight childhood obesity in America.

It was my first time inside the White House and as soon as Michelle Obama walked out confident and beautiful, I realized that she could tell America to eat turnips and flax seed every morning and night and a good portion of people would follow suit.

Michelle Obama has that stunning package of qualities that my mother has. Fearless, authoritative, and caring, the mother-of-two and Harvard-trained lawyer can command many children and adults to follow her quest just by suggesting them. And like my mother, Michelle appears to walk on water.

Now, I believe it is that power for women and mothers to be role models that I think will amplify the goals of Obama's movement aimed to reverse the fact that young people, due to obesity-related disorders, might have a shorter life-span than their parents. A focus on women and mothers could turn Obama's national fitness movement into a penetrating cultural, psychological mandate.

Right now, Michelle Obama's plan combines major thrusts: moves to provide front-of-package nutrition labeling on food products and the elimination of food deserts in neighborhoods with no grocery stories; a policy to increase healthy meals in public schools; marketing and tools to spur athleticism in children and wellness decisions in families; and billions towards these goals over the next 10 years. Her vision, fortified by private and public support, is both necessary and impressive.

In addition, child's health foundations will come together to fund the Partnership for a Healthier America, which is a non-partisan convener of sectors and agencies supporting solving childhood obesity in 30 years. And President Barack Obama signed a Presidential Memorandum to launch the first Task Force for Childhood Obesity to review and create countrywide plans to employ federal resources to improve child nutrition and exercise.

Imploring Americans to read about what they eat, talk health with their circles, and see health as a self-esteem issue, Michelle Obama's plan is simply epic, a practical movement that could change everything.

Yet one thing I noticed about Michelle Obama's informative and passionate literature about the plan is that the words families and parents are preferred over women and mothers. It appears state and social forces will usher in this very crucial movement, when in fact, women and children are the exact linchpin. Many people like me, even with two active parents, draw a direct line of my eating and lifestyle experiences to my mother. While my father influenced my eating habits, healthy food practices were often implemented by my mother. Fathers can regulate the diet of children, but can they manage the lifestyle of mothers?

Still now, I don't understand the mechanism of vegetables and I can't explain the chemistry of pure hair oils. But I know that when I cook greens in too much oil, they don't taste as good as my mother's, and when I use olive oil on my hair instead of synthetic creams, my hair becomes shiny, beautiful, and strong as my mother's.

This relationship works in reverse. Four out of five African American women are obese, making us the most obese group of Americans. And the CDC finds that maternal pre-pregnancy obesity is associated with childhood obesity. Some of this explains why African American children between ages 6 and 17 are 1.3 times as likely to be overweight as their white peers and are at greater risk of diabetes, asthma and heart disease. A lot of the problem is, mother see, child do. Michelle Obama's campaign has the chance to embrace and nurture mothers in a huge, phenomenal way.

For years my mom was soy-minded, making as many trips to mainstream grocery stores as small health food shops. Her bookshelves were lined with alternative healthy living literature. When she was going to make a big change in her life, she meditated on it. And when she went vegetarian, she invited her children to join along.

Throughout the years, I adopted these habits, and not because I was a health guru like my mother, but because I absorbed them as a result of admiring my mother, my role model since the womb. Now I have a health propensity without thinking about it. And, some things are just wired. No matter where I am in the world, if I have even a cold, I call my mom first. How maternal health emerges in this vast obesity fight will be amazing to watch, and necessary to see.

2010-01-27T09:57:00.000-08:00

-- Kimberly Seals Allers is on vacation this week. --

Intensely aware of what health care advocates gently refer to as "health disparities," members of state coalitions meeting over the weekend confessed that they were struggling to find a best strategy to promote breastfeeding among African-American mothers.

Studies to date indicate that African American mothers are least likely to breastfeed--even though they are more at risk for breast cancer, obesity and high blood pressure. In addition, they are more likely to give birth early and breast milk can literally save the lives of preemies in a way formula does not.

As more than 300 breastfeeding activists--physicians, nurses, lactation consultants, and health activists-- gathered in Arlington, Va. to expand the support for breastfeeding in hospitals, families, law and workplaces, the toughest question was how can we be more successful with African American mothers and mothers-to-be?

http://www.usbreastfeeding.org/

Part of my work at the conference was to discuss at a breakfast table how Women's eNews is changing the media narrative about African maternal and infant health. I talked about Women's eNews'Black Maternal Health project and the value of shifting breastfeeding news focused on babies to the lives of the mothers, particularly black mothers.

http://www.womensenews.org/story/090922/black-maternal-health-legacy-and-future

Black moms are three-to six times more likely to die during pregnancy and during the post-partum weeks and thus they are the face of our country's most acute maternal health problems. If the United States can mend poor health outcomes among black women and their infants, certainly the entire health care system will benefit.

But confronting the reality of black maternal health and breastfeeding at the conference is not so easy.

"Nooo," said Lorine Bizzell, a regional nutritionist with the United States Department of Agriculture, in Atlanta. That was her response when I asked for her input on the fact that that college-educated black women breastfeed less than low-income moms, teen moms, and moms with only 12 years of schooling.

http://www.womensenews.org/story/black-maternal-health/090922/breastfeeding-not-you-sisters-listen

"That's hard to believe. Young black career women that I know are all nursing their children under a variety of challenging circumstances."

Laura Sinai is a North Carolina-based pediatrician. She works in a private practice outside Charlotte and a third of her clients are black. Talking to black mothers about breastfeeding has been difficult. "They just say, 'You don't know my life. I will not breastfeed.'"

Melissa Bartick, a physician with the Massachusetts Breastfeeding Coalition, spearheads efforts for hospitals in the state to become Baby Friendly, an award given for prioritizing breastfeeding in maternity wards and backed by the World Health Organization.

After I asked Bartick how she's targeting black mothers, she took a deep breath and said: "Yes, there are disparities. They do exist."

"Where do I find black women who want to be lactation consultants?" said Anna Uttar, the regional director of the International Board of Lactation Consultant Examiners in Falls Church, Virginia. "They are not coming out to get trained."

As the conference was coming to an end, I was starting to worry that the question of how to increase breastfeeding among black mothers was left hanging, like a great news story unpublished.

Right as I gathered my bags and headed out the conference hall, Napiera Loveless approached me.

She is co-founder of MamaTotoMatema, a Cincinnati agency urging breastfeeding among African-American families. We got to talking and laughing and sharing how we wished the conference had a dance party.

http://www.mamatotomatema.com/

Loveless told me about how she reports to black women and activates their interest. Immediately I realized she should have been a keynote speaker; she was a guru of connecting ideas to messages, to challenges.

When talking to low-income black women, Loveless appeals to fashion. Many young black women like the bling, she said. The shiny things. The nice clothes. "I tell some mothers, 'You know how you like your Dereon jeans and Gucci? Well breast milk is the name-brand jeans. Formula is the rip-off!'"

When talking to upper-income black women, Loveless said that family support systems may be lacking. Many families look to a high-earning black woman for financial and emotional support, so a lot is riding on her shoulders.

"I want to find out who their support system is," she said. "It might be her best friend or her co-worker. Can your co-worker help you on the job? Watch your work while you get a chance to pump?"

She said her strategy is gaining effect in Ohio.

As I left the Third National Conference of State/Territory/Tribal Breastfeeding Coalitions, my heart was warmed by Loveless, and the many leaders talking about black maternal health. My mind was racing.

There is always a way to get through.

Malena Amusa is a reporter living in New York City.

We Need Our Village Back

2010-01-21T10:06:00.000-08:00

For some time now, I've been lamenting the demise of our "village."

When our parents grew up the whole neighborhood helped raise them (and probably had spanking privileges). And when I grew up you could best believe that any neighbor would quickly tell my mother or father if I was ever seen someplace I wasn't supposed to be. There was an "we're all in this together" mentality and a thinking that my child is my responsibility and your child is my responsibility because at the end of the day, we are all in this community together and one success is our collective success and one failure is our collective failure and affects us all.

Somewhere along the way, we lost this village mentality. The changing economic climate has dictated that we move away from relatives or that we move often because of job opportunities. As a result, we never really grow roots in our communities anymore. We don't have our extended family of aunties, uncles and grandparents nearby anymore.

This week Women's eNews hosted a screening of Tonya Lewis Lee's powerful documentary on reducing infant mortality and improving maternal health, in celebration of the second year of The Black Maternal Health Project. It was a full house. The film, Crisis in the Crib--Saving Our Nation's Babies (view the trailer here) speaks directly to preconception health, mobilizing young people as peer educators in the movement and putting a face and voice to the infant mortality issue. The conversation afterward with Tonya and our fabulous guests was even more empowering.

We couldn't understand while infant mortality remains a taboo topic in our country's agenda. Even when you remove African American statistics from the equation, the United States still had an embarrassing ranking as far as infant mortality is concerned. We couldn't understand why maternal health is absent from the current debate about healthcare reform. And we certainly couldn't understand why very little is being done to save our most vulnerable population. There was so much that didn't make sense.

But here's what was crystal clear. We can't wait for the government to solve this crisis. Yes, we have to push for laws. But we also have to advocate in our communities to remove some of the social barriers to our health issues. We need to advocate for safe places to exercise, removing toxins from our communities, having fresh fruit and vegetables available in our communities and more.

It was clear that we need our village of womenfolk. And then some.

In Crisis in the Crib, the 'Healthy Baby Begins With You' Campaign, takes on a peer education model. It uses college students to go into their own communities and also speak to high school students about preconception health. It goes back to that "village" mentality.

That night of the screening we deployed our own village, a room full of women of all races with personal and professional interests in embracing mothers and producing healthy babies. We thought of ways we could let our own network know about the OMH campaign, spread more awareness about the problem, or help be a part of the solution.

We saw the powerful ripple effect that could be sparked just from those in the room doing one thing. For that evening, we brought our village back. And it felt oh so good.

What can you do to help bring our village back to our babies? What more can we be doing? I'd love to hear from you. Please post a comment here.

Bruce Jenner, Breastfeeding and Keeping it Real with the Kardashians

2010-01-13T10:09:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week, after a long day of deadlines and meetings, I was desperately in need of a mindless television moment and channel surfed my way to the "Keeping up with the Kardashians" reality TV show.

Have you seen this quality production?

Three sisters on an unclear mission. One became famous for having a big booty (an apparent first for a non-black or Latina person), another recently married an NBA superstar after two months of dating, and alas, the third, Courtney, is very pregnant. At least in this episode she was. (I know from a recent trip to the supermarket checkout line that she has already had her baby and sold all the pictures.) But I digress.

In this particular episode, the often reviled baby daddy, Scott, did the unthinkable. He didn't show up for a breastfeeding class. O.M.G! Courtney returns home in a huff. Scott says, he didn't think he needed to go to a breastfeeding class because it has nothing to do with him. Courtney lets him know with a few well-timed F-bombs that it absolutely does have something to do with him and if he doesn't "get on her team" immediately then the relationship is over. Drama!!

Scott, feeling like he just received an unwarranted tongue lashing from a hormone charged pregnant woman, heads over to talk to Courtney's step father, Olympic great Bruce Jenner. Scott tells Bruce his story. "Breastfeeding is not about me," he says, looking for manly sympathy. Bruce, in his infinite wisdom and having scaled a few hurdles in his own life, sets him straight. "It is about you. It's about support."

Ahhhh, a teachable moment in reality TV. I feel like notifying some authorities.

But yes, men, breastfeeding is about you. And you don't have to have graced a Corn Flakes box to know it. In fact, many moms say their partners' attitude and support played a major role in whether or not they continued breastfeeding. This is particularly true in the black community.

Consider these striking findings from a recent survey by the Bravado Breastfeeding Information Council, or BBIC. (Full disclosure: I'm an advisory board member).

When asked to choose the person who had the most important influence in her life as a nursing mom, almost three times as many women selected their partner (54%) over their mothers (21%), even if their mother had breastfeeding experience.

Approximately 70% of mothers consider their partners support to be extremely important to their overall confidence as a new mom, and their overall well-being as a nursing mother.

With our historically low breastfeeding rates and our woefully high infant mortality rates, it is really important to get our men on board. They are an important part of our "village."

If you or your partner don't know what he can do, I found these great tips for Dads. Share them with your man.

1. The first thing a father can do to promote success is to create a positive family atmosphere toward breastfeeding. As a practical matter, breastfed babies need to accompany their mothers whenever possible. A father who views a baby's continual presence as intrusive will subtly undermine breastfeeding. The father who naturally assumes that his baby will accompany the couple to restaurants, movies, dinner parties, and meetings has given breastfeeding his strong endorsement. There's a big difference between a man who agrees to let his partner breastfeed and one who deliberately creates an atmosphere of success.

2. Fathers can play a key role in bolstering their breastfeeding partner's confidence by showering them with compliments, praising their efforts, and offering words of encouragement. When a woman is under extreme stress, a man may not know how best to support his mate. He may be uncertain whether she wants to hear, "Don't give up; you can do it!" or "You've done your best. It's okay to switch to bottle-feeding." If you are not sure how to respond to your partner, try explaining that you don't know exactly what to say, but you want to support her in any way you can. Just being a sounding board might be all she needs on a specific day.

3. A father can help in so many ways that it's hard to imagine why many men feel left out when their wives breastfeed. A father can go to the baby when he or she awakens and bring the hungry infant to his wife. While the mother is nursing, he can pour her a nutritious beverage, massage her shoulders, compliment her, and lovingly admire his nursing baby. After the first breast, he can burp the baby and help arouse the infant for the second side. When the feeding is complete, the father can change the infant and put him or her down to sleep.

In the BBIC survey, moms said, partners could best help by changing diapers, listening to them, praising them, supporting them with family and friends, and burping the baby as key examples of support. 45% of moms would like more help with chores and 36% would like their partners to get up with them at night.

So you see Scott, and thousands of other Scott-like men, we do need you. There is much for you to do. It is about the support. Thank you Bruce Jenner.

Watch this video to see the webcast of the full release of the BBIC's findings on women and breastfeeding.

Folic Acid and You—What Every Woman of Color Needs to Know

2010-01-05T10:12:00.000-08:00

It’s the New Year! And who knows what 2010 will bring. According to recent stats approximately 50 percent of women aged 15-44 have at least one unplanned pregnancy in their lives. That means a good number of us may have an surprise in 2010.

That also means every woman of childbearing age, should be thinking about their health all day, every day. That’s why I wanted to tell you that this week, January 4-10^th, is Folic Acid Awareness Week. Sponsored by the National Council on Folic Acid (NCFA) http://www.folicacidinfo.org/pages/folicacid_info.php, the week is intended to educate all women about folic acid. If taken before and during early pregnancy from a multi-vitamin or fortified foods, folic acid can prevent from 50 percent to 70 percent of some forms of serious birth defects of the brain and spine, called neural tube defects (NTD).

Getting the right amount of folic acid is particularly important to Black and Latina women. Not only do Latinas have higher rates of NTD-affected pregnancies, they also have the lowest awareness about folic acid than women of other ethnic groups, and lower consumption of folic acid than white non-Hispanic women, according to recent studies.

In addition to preventing NTDs, increased folic acid has been linked to preventing preeclampsia, a form of severe high blood pressure that usually occurs after 37 weeks of pregnancy. The potentially fatal condition is more common in black women. Studies indicate that when black women have preeclampsia they tend to have a severe form of the disorder and experience it as early as six months in the pregnancy compared to the typical ninth month.

Doctors have not yet pinpointed exactly why this disparity exists, however, one study found that black women had less folic acid and more of a certain amino acid than white women as a pre-existing condition, which put them at a higher risk during pregnancy. The findings suggest that black women take more folic acid before and during pregnancy and as early as possible. (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4781703 )

The easiest way to make sure you’re getting enough folic acid all the time is by taking a multi-vitamin, B vitamin complex pill or folic acid pill and eating fortified foods like grains, pastas or breakfast cereals. Folate is found naturally in foods such as leafy green vegetables, beans, liver and some fruit. But for some reason, scientists have found that folic acid, the synthetic version of folate, is actually easier for your body to absorb than folate.

Even if you don’t have a planned or unplanned pregnancy in the cards, folic acid is pretty important to your healthy living. Studies show that folic acid reduces the risk of certain cancers; cardiovascular diseases including coronary heart disease and stroke; and cognitive diseases or mental conditions such as Alzheimer's disease, age-related dementia or cognitive decline and depression. We can all use that.

How is pregnancy and motherhood different for African American women?

2009-12-26T10:38:00.000-08:00

If I had a dollar for every person who asked me, "How is pregnancy and motherhood different for African American women?" I'd be a very, very rich woman. Yes, the formula for pregnancy is the same for all women. Forty weeks=one baby. But the journey can be so much different. Our experience is different. Our stresses and anxieties are so different. And therein lies the rub.

For example, when I was pregnant with my first child, I prayed to God that I would have a girl. This wasn't a dress up, little princess, mini-me type of daughter fantasy, I was just literally afraid of raising a black boy. As a new parent, we already doubt our parenting skills anyway, but I certainly didn't know how I could ever raise a black man in a world that is statistically stacked against him. I was stressed and afraid.

Consider these facts:

The number one cause of death for Black males between the ages of 15-25 is a (violent death) murder.

One in four Black men will enter prison at least once, compared to only one in 23 white males having the same experience.

According to the United States Department of Justice, Black males currently constitute 12 percent of the national population but 44 percent of the prison population.

I thought about how, someday, I would have to sit with my son and teach him his legal rights and what to do and not to do when approached by the police. Stress. I remembered how my own brother was often stopped for no good reason. Many times I was with him when it happened.

I remember our family's unspoken sigh of relief when my brother reached his eighteenth birthday and then his twenty-fifth birthday and was still alive, never incarcerated and college educated. He had beaten the odds. These are powerful milestones for our black men. I don't think white mothers have the same worries over their boys. And so you can understand, why I prayed to God for a little girl.

I got my girl.

But my son, Michael Jaden, came four years later.

Lately, I've been remembering how my mother would beg my brother, who was an ace student at Hofstra University, not to dress in street fashions like baggy jeans or baseball caps because she feared that he could be easily mistaken for a "thug" by policemen who shoot first and ask questions later. Even then, as a big sister, I felt my mother's pain. Today, as a mother, I know my mother's pain and her fear and her worry. It is a stress that is never ending yet powerful.

In September my son started kindergarten. And I was a nervous wreck for all the reasons every mother gets worried about the first day of school. But I was particularly anxious for a few reasons only Black mothers will understand. Reasons why my experience now as a black mother is still highly stressful. Studies show, black male achievement begins to decline as early as the fourth grade and by high school, black males are more likely to drop out. Fourth grade! We need to start asking why.

What's more, everybody, even the best teachers, has their own biases. They come from our upbringing, the influence of the media and many times we aren't even aware of them. But what if those biases affect how the teachers and principals view my son, my young black male.

Will they give Michael 3000% percent if they are subliminally thinking he will likely be dead by 18 or that his future is really in sports or hip hop and not in academic excellence? Will they see my beautiful brown boy for the person he really is?

Recently I had an unsettling experience: My son has been reading since he was 4 years old. He was the only reader in his Pre-K class and everyday throughout the school year his teacher would tell all the parents hanging around for pick up how he reads stories to the other children, helps them tie their shoes (because they don't how), and spells like a champ. He is also the only African American in the class. At the end of the school year, a bunch of moms and dads from the class got together, and their whole conversation about my son was about how fast he runs, how he wins all the races at parties, and how he has a very muscular tone for a 5-year old. These things are true. But not one person talked about how smart he is. Even though that was the messaging they received about my son nearly every day. Not one parent.

And so I'm afraid. And when I send him off to school every day, my work as a Black mother begins. My stress as a black mother intensifies. My job, raising a black male, is to make sure any teacher, principal, or school administrator sees my son for his brilliance and not the statistic or stereotype this world often perpetuates. My parenting needs to be on-point so that my son knows that he is destined for excellence, that he is not a statistic or stereotype and that he is loved unconditionally even in a world that fears him.

This is my new prayer. And I have a strong yet sad feeling that it's a prayer being echoed by millions of Black mothers all over the world. This is just a sampling of our stresses. I hope more of you are beginning to understand.

Allow Me to Introduce Myself: Kimberly Seals Allers

2009-12-20T10:40:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the SisterSpace. Relax, get comfortable and prepare yourself for a groundbreaking conversation about our health and our lives as black women and mothers.

My name is Kimberly Seals Allers and I'm the editorial director of the Black Maternal Health project at Women's eNews. BMH is dedicated to providing unprecedented news coverage of the issues behind the high infant mortality rate among African American babies in this country and embracing all mothers in the journey of motherhood. The truth is black women are at a greater risk of losing their baby before its first birthday regardless of her education level or socioeconomic background. That's a problem.

The solution is complex.

But it starts with a keen awareness of the problem by all black women and a commitment to take better care of ourselves in general so that we enter motherhood in a healthier state.

I know this may sound simple, but it involves a complete shift in our mindsets. After all, we black women are notorious for being eternal Super Women--we put on our red cape and boots and go out to save our respective worlds. We are so good at nurturing others but fall short at taking care of ourselves.

The legacy of black women in this world is so rooted in hardship that it has become a defining element of the black female experience. Our foremothers are repeatedly portrayed as strong and emotionless creatures who took care of white women, their white children, as well as their own family. When enslaved children and adults were split up and moved to other plantations, it was the slave women who took care of the extended families who remained. In fact, as long as history has documented our existence, we have been taking care of other people. Sometimes we had no other choice, as refusing to do so could mean severe punishment or death.

Today, it's a different story. And taking care of others while neglecting our own health, is just one area of our lives that creates stress that can have serious health implications.

Even in the strongest of women, prolonged stress can lead to chronic upper respiratory infections, hypertension, heart disease and obesity. During pregnancy, stress has been clinically proven to adversely affect birth outcomes. Many experts now conclude that stress causes the release of hormones that weaken the uterus, leading to premature delivery or infant mortality. The hormone changes can occur over a lifetime, not just in pregnancy. They can build up from fear of violence, worries about paying bills, job insecurity, or standing for long periods of work. One study found that pregnancy complications were more frequent among black women who said they were dealing with racial discrimination at work or in housing situations.

That's why it is so important for us to start this new conversation. Here at SisterSpace, we'll be talking frankly about what our experience is really like and how we can manage the many stressors that may be affecting our babies' health. We'll probe into old research and ask why there isn't much new research on why our birth outcomes and maternal health statistics severely lag our white counterparts. Most importantly, we will still crafting solutions, our solutions, for saving our babies and saving ourselves.

Please join me.

Kimberly Seals Allers is also the author of The Mocha Manual to a Fabulous Pregnancy,(Amistad/HarperCollins) the first-of-its kind pregnancy guidebook for black women, and editor in chief of www.mochamanual.com, a daily online magazine and lifestyle destination for Black moms. An award winning journalist, Kimberly is a former writer at Fortune and a former senior editor at Essence. She lives in Long Island with her two children.

Kudos to New Moms. Taking Care of Baby Is Not Like Riding a Bike.

2009-12-17T10:15:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I happily agreed to watch my girlfriend's one year old son for about two days so she could take a work trip.

"I got this", I thought. Auntie Kim is on it! After all, it was only four years ago that I had a one year old. I figured getting back into the baby mode would be like riding a bike. It was more like getting hit by a bus!

Apparently four years is more than enough time to fall off your mommy game. It's amazing how quickly we can forget the work, the juggling (literally), the organization, the patience, the lack of sleep and all the "stuff" that baby's actually require. Because every phase of childhood brings its own stresses, I had nearly forgotten about this phase.

I didn't even mention that my girlfriend still breastfeeds him (Whoo Hoo!), so putting him to bed was going to require some serious creativity and a lot of patience. I haven't rocked and walked and sang that much in years!

Truth be told, on one of the days, I had a little help. My girlfriend from London was in town--and though childless, she is a highly capable Auntie to even my own kids. As two highly educated, savvy women we set out to run errands and take care of some business with my two kids and the baby in tow.

This was my moment to shine. I felt like I was back in the zone. I dutifully packed the diaper bag, refilling his water cup, adding snacks and checking for diapers and wipes. Meanwhile, my girlfriend got my children out the door and into the car. Everybody was belted, buckled and ready to go.

We pulled out the driveway proudly, slapping high fives at our teamwork!

We were halfway to our destination before I realized I left the superbly packed diaper bag in the house!

So there we were out for a long day with a one year old, with no diapers, no snacks, no nothing! Oy!

Watching (and laughing at) my own mommy blunders reminded me how tough parenting can be in the early years. Now I remember why we rejoice at the end of our diaper days, the end of our dependence on wipes, butt creams, changing pads and more baby gear than one human being can manage. I am very happy to be past those years.

On the other hand, there's a specialness of those early years that can never be duplicated. I miss the amazing bond and comfort I enjoyed while breastfeeding--I could totally understand why that little man did not want to go to sleep without it.

But when he did finally doze off, and I watched him sleeping peacefully, I was reminded of the calm that only a baby can bring over you. The joy of motherhood. I saw my own son, little Michael, just four years ago, when I used to stare in wonderment as he slept. I saw this baby as a future strong black man, and myself as part of his "village" that will help mold and shape him. (His mom is certainly part of the village that raises my children).

I saw everything that is beautiful about motherhood.

Hope.

Promise.

And endless possibilities.

A National Day of Dialogue on Domestic Violence and Teen Dating Abuse

2009-12-15T10:24:00.000-08:00

Last week, I was invited to Liz Claiborne's "It's Time to Talk Day" --a national day of dialogue on domestic violence and teen dating abuse, where leading voices come together for a day of radio and blogging about an issue that doesn’t get enough talk time. (Learn more at www.loveisnotabuse.org)

I couldn't help but feel a bit emotionally spent dealing with such a heavy and important issue. But there is another area of domestic violence that rarely gets discussed—domestic violence during pregnancy.

It is estimated that one in five women will be abused during pregnancy. What’s worse, homicide during pregnancy now surpasses the previous leading causes of death (automobile accidents and falls), for pregnant women.

It is more important than ever that we know the signs of domestic violence and start talking about these issues in our community.

Enter activist and philanthropist Malaak Compton Rock. The wife of my favorite comedian, Chris Rock, takes service very seriously (check out her many projects at http://www.angelrockproject.com/) .

But last week Malaak and I had a candid conversation about domestic violence in the Black community. And I think all black women and black men need to listen:

Kimberly: How is domestic violence different for us?

Malaak: "The silence is killing us. I think the white community has done a good job showing that domestic violence is not a poor woman's problem. They have changed the face of domestic violence to show that educated, career women suffer as well. We haven't. "

Kimberly: I think that if you are "successful" and you have that positive black family image going on, there’s even more pressure to keep up that appearance and not break up another black family.

Malaak: “You're right. There's a lot of fear of breaking up the family, and we need more affluent women to come out of the closet. There is a fear that I'm alone. We have to take the stigma out of the issue and add more faces and voices to that pain. I think it needs to start in Black magazines and even websites like yours.”

Kimberly: What can our men do?

Malaak: "I will tell you this, my husband is very aware of how he treats me because he knows our two daughters are learning how to be treated by a man by his dealings with me. It all starts in the home. Fathers need to be involved with their daughters, teaching them what they deserve and should expect in any future relationship."

Kimberly: That's powerful.

Malaak: "I know this, women who are strong, confident and secure in who they are were raised by fathers who instilled that into them."

Even though our community has disproportionately high levels of single female-headed households, we can’t get around how important our black men are to saving our communities, our babies and ourselves.

Single and Pregnant: Telling My Story

2009-11-17T10:28:00.000-08:00

I've committed my life to talking about Black women having a "fabulous" and powerful pregnancy, but to be honest, there was nothing fabulous about how my pregnancy journey began.

It was the summer right before I was to begin the Knight Bagehot Fellowship and do my Master's at Columbia University and I went to London to spend the summer with my girlfriends and my new British boyfriend. Well, let's just say I came home with more than just a hankering for tea and biscuits.

We were both shocked and it was a heavy burden for a relatively new relationship. When I told my parents, my father cried. Even though I was 29, on my own and with a very successful career, it was a big family disappointment for where others saw my life going. When you are put on a pedestal, any fall is always a harder fall.

Then I got the phone call. Weeks after coming to New York for my first prenatal visit, my baby-daddy (who, just to keep you confused, I later married and am now divorcing) called to say that he couldn't deal with an unplanned pregnancy, he was confused, yadda yadda yadda . . . he's out of there. The next time I would see him, my daughter was 11 months old.

At this point in my life, I redefined loneliness. I had lost my deepest friendships, was disfellowshipped from my religious community, I had been abandoned by my child's father, my mother (because of her religious beliefs) was not able to support me, and I was in one of the most challenging fellowship programs there is. I cried every day for weeks. No seriously, every day.

And because I suffer from "Strong Black Woman" syndrome and like many of you, wear the reputation of the entire black race on my back, I refused to tell any of the truly wonderful people in my fellowship program that I had become another black statistic: Unwed mother. Absent father. Instead, I launched a black male PR campaign full of stories of his involvement, excitement, and "sorry, you just missed him" visits. Geesh!! How exhausting! (Btw, when I finally came clean with them several months later, they were the most supportive bunch ever!)

My sister said that as a "student" I could probably income qualify for WIC to help with the high prices of healthy food in New York City. And I will never, ever forget the day I walked to 125th Street and into that Harlem office and got WIC. (That is another blog!)

But I knew this baby only had me. And I was scared as hell. I knew I had pretty much no one to count on to help me through this pregnancy but myself. And so I began to research everything. In my researching to save my sanity and help my baby, I stumbled upon the sobering statistics about black women and our high rates of low birth weight and pre term pregnancies that inspired me to write my first book, The Mocha Manual to a Fabulous Pregnancy years later.

With the help of some great new friends, a few old ones, my sister and a lot of prayer, I survived the darkest period of my life and still had a "fabulous" pregnancy. Having a "fabulous" pregnancy is all about your mind set and nothing about your circumstance. I finished my coursework early, delivered Kayla on schedule and walked down the aisle with her in my arms to receive my Master's Degree a few weeks later. I was able to have a successful freelance career, buy a new car, get a great apartment and stay home with my little one. And I never asked for a dime (or pence) from her father. She is still my Triumph Baby.

Do you have a triumph baby? Did you overcome your circumstances to still have a "fabulous" pregnancy? I'd love to hear your story.

Pregnancy and Swine Flu. Get Answers.

2009-11-12T10:31:00.000-08:00

Outside of the medical community, every mama, auntie or Big Mama in your family, neighborhood or church has their own old wives tale about what to do and what not to do during pregnancy.

If that weren't enough, the recent spate of H1N1/ swine flu is a real concern for everyone especially mothers of young children and pregnant women. Who should get the vaccine? Is the seasonal flu vaccine just as effective? What's in the vaccine? You see, a lot of questions.

The CDC has recommended that healthy pregnant women get vaccinated against the seasonal flu. Yet new data shows that only 20% of those who are currently pregnant plan to get a flu vaccine this season. I'm sure that number is much higher among black women.

What gives?

Well, for one, let's face it, our community tends to distrust the medical field anyway and the government runs a close second. And the internet is full of so called experts, scary stories and more, it's hard to know what is correct and what is potentially harmful.

To help, the Association of Women's Health, Obstetric and Neonatal Nurses (AWHONN) and the National Women's Health Resource Center (NWHRC) have launched a new campaign, "Flu-Free and A Mom-to-Be: Protect Yourself, Protect Your Baby -- Get a Flu Shot!." The "Flu-Free and A Mom-to-Be" campaign aims to educate health care providers and their patients about the importance of both the seasonal flu and the H1N1 vaccines. You can check it out here, and download helpful information.

If you are looking for a safe place to ask questions, get live answers and talk to other parents, please click here to register for a free webinar on Thursday, November 19th at 8pm. The webinar is open to everyone and co-hosted by Heart and Soul magazine and MochaManual.com, my online parenting community.

The chat will feature two leading specialists from the American Academy of Pediatrics who will lead an open discussion and Q and A. Dr. Renee Jenkins, is chair of the Department of Pediatrics and Child Health at Howard University and immediate past president of The American Academy of Pediatrics. Dr. Meg Fisher is a pediatric infectious disease specialist and chair of the infectious disease section of the Academy. Both of these amazing women are committed to giving our community the answers they need to make their own decisions.

Get all the info you need to protect yourself and keep you, your growing baby or newborn infant healthy. You owe your little one that much.

Seeing My Slave Roots: Thinking of the Mothers Before Me

2009-11-09T10:34:00.000-08:00

Staring at the computer screen, I could barely make out the letters. But I will never forget what I heard. "These are likely the slave owners of your second great grandfather."

The very nice researcher from Ancestry.com had warned me when we sat down that she may have found some slave connections, but I figured, of course you would.

But staring at the Census report from 1900 and seeing the nearly illegible names felt a lot different than I expected. My mind was numb but my body had goose bumps.

Back then the Census was purely door to door. There was a large white family with sizable land listed as next door to my ancestors. And then I saw it, Phillip Billy, born in 1861 and his wife, Hagar, born in 1865. My second great grandparents on my mother's side.

And since there were no integrated neighborhoods back then, the fact that they are listed on the same street probably means that the family listed above Phillip and Hagar were likely their slaveowners--as it was gently explained to me. I stared hard at the handwriting but didn't bother to try to figure out the name. It started with an M.

The discovery was part of a mommy blogger day I attended recently hosted by Ancestry.com. A truly great experience in beautiful Salt Lake City! But as the only African American at the event, I couldn't help but notice my experience was very different from everyone else. There were plenty of stories from the staff of finding long lost ancestors in ship records, Ellis Island records, and in other countries. People were finding third and fourth great grandparents and other amazing ancestral connections. My discovery was a lot more sobering.

And the truth is, African Americans just can't trace their roots so easily. There are no records for our existence because we were not considered human beings.

If you really want to dig, the researcher also said, sometimes you can find slaves listed in the wills of landowners, often bequeathed behind cattle and other beasts of burden, she said. And because slaves could be killed for learning to read or write we were unable to document our own existence.

There was so much that I couldn't find, but was hoping to discover. I hoped to return with great stories to tell my children. That really didn't happen.

What I did find was generations of ancestors who could not read or write. Their children could not read or write. I found young babies who were listed in one year's Census but missing from the next count--they likely died. I saw large families of six or seven children of very young mothers. I saw ancestors who were only 8 years old but listed as working farmhands.

I wondered what it was like for those mothers whose babies died too soon and whose children were forced to work instead of learn. I thought about the "broken relationships" that researchers now believe contribute to poor birth outcomes today among Black women and whether these are a lingering legacy of slavery.

A report by the Joint Center Health Policy Institute called "The Courage To Love," contends that the problems of infant mortality and poor maternal nutrition are, in essence, problems of broken relationships at many levels. These broken relationships range from broken families, lack of support for breastfeeding, the decline in family meals, and the marketing of junk foods to children.

"These broken relationships create lifelong conditions of high stress and low support, which in turn pattern physiological, psychological, and behavioral responses that put the mother at risk for poor, nutrition during pregnancy, and her baby at risk for fetal and infant death. African American families are disproportionately affected by these broken relationships, which contribute to disparities in maternal nutrition and infant mortality," the report says.

In the end the report recommends that "any efforts to reduce maternal and infant mortality and morbidity must focus on the repair and support of relationships at all levels and across the life course."

The black mothers before us didn't have such insight. There was no research into their unique experience or examination of why their babies were dying. Generations later, Black mothers are still fighting for healthy babies. We now have a better understanding of why. Let's hope this insight leads to real action.

Michael and Mama's Milk: A Lesson in Breastfeeding

2009-11-03T10:36:00.000-08:00

Recently, a conversation around our dinner table began a little something like this:

Michael, my 5-year old: Mommy, did I used to drink milk from your breasts?

Me: Yes, you did

Son: Why?

Me: Well, it makes you healthier and smarter. Mama's milk is why you're so smart.

Son: Is that why I'm the only one in my class who can read?

Me: Yes

Son: And why I can ride a two wheeler and why I can tie my shoes by myself?

Me: Yes and yes.

By now I hope you get a sense of how my brainwashing works. Yes, I know my comments may not be completely scientifically proven facts. But he's my child to brainwash. Go get your own kid to tell your truths!

As far as I'm concerned, we have a multi generational effort on our hands when it comes to breastfeeding support in the black community and I'm starting early.

I'm hoping that this young black male who will hopefully have his own wife and children one day will remember my enthusiasm and even my exaggerated benefits of breastfeeding and someday wholeheartedly support his wife if she chooses to breastfeed.

For now, I talk to my son and daughter about how much I enjoyed the breastfeeding experience (which is the gospel truth!) even after I was still trying to wean my daughter at 14 months and then my son cut teeth at 4 months. Ouch!

Sometimes when my children don't eat properly I threaten to put them back on the breast so I can make sure they get their proper nutrition. LOL! I tell my nine year I will have to come to her lunchroom, whip it out and feed her. You should see the look on their faces. It is so funny!

But the low breastfeeding rates in the Black community are no joke. For over 30 years, African American women have had the lowest breastfeeding rates. The numbers have greatly increased in recent years, black moms still trail all other ethnicities. And when it comes to the gold standard of infant nutrition--six months of exclusive breastfeeding, among African Americans the rate is only 20% compared to 40% among whites. And as much as I respect a mothers' right to choose what feeding method works best for her lifestyle, I think there are some strong cultural forces at play that often cloud the issue. I also think that with so many dire statistics on the infant mortality rates among African American babies, we have a deeper responsibility to give our babies every possible advantage for a healthier start in life.

That's why I'm so honored to be an advisory board member of the Bravado Breastfeeding Information Council, which is dedicated to getting a full and diverse sampling of breastfeeding views for their research of the emerging trends, obstacles and challenges faced by nursing women at home, in the office, and other aspects of her life.

I'm asking all women of color to please take this brief survey to add our perspectives to the research on breastfeeding attitudes and behaviors. You will be entered to win one of five $100 Target or Sephora Gift Cards. Whoo hooo!!

As you know my life's work involves making sure women of color are included in any and all research on the motherhood experience. Well, here is an important opportunity. Please share your voice.