I know the depths of that joy and excitement in planning to have a child, but for me, it’s layered with fear. My partner and I have been having conversations about having a child sometime in our lives but still, there is something like heavy, unshakeable dread. My partner is a Black woman, and the more we forge ahead, the more the stories and statistics about the alarming rates of complications and even mortality that Black women face in childbirth haunt me.
It terrifies me, actually, just to think that only because of a certain somebody whom I hold so dear, she will be at risk because some system is broken and not because the natural risks involved in childbearing are at play. To be so in love and so excited about family, only to be burdened with the fact that for Black women, having children presents a certain unique and profound peril. I imagine her being dismissed, her pain being chided, and my heart goes out.
You wouldn’t know that by looking at us. Still, it is part of my day: visualizing hospitals and staff of medical professionals, creating options, and even finding an advocate to hire, in a desire for her to get the respect, care, and empathy that are due to her. Nothing every plan, every reading, every advocacy can eliminate one terrible fact: Black women in America have added risks due to systemic racism and neglect.
I hate that this fear even exists, that I have to think about it, that our joy is clouded by an injustice so deep it’s shaped by centuries of prejudice. This fear lives here in the quiet spaces: in the way I think about a future, in the way I look at her and feel in my heart the love we share, the life we want to build. It’s in those fears that, on a day that’s supposed to be nothing less than perfect, I’ll have to fight for her to be seen and heard.
We really don’t talk about this enough weight carried by families like ours. I truly hope sharing this brings to light what has been a reality for many but understood by few. This should not happen to anyone, and it is high time things change.
Unruly Bodies 
It’s heartbreaking that your excitement of planning for a child is intertwined with fear because of a system that fails to protect and value not only women, but black women to a much higher degree. The fact that you’re already having think about advocating for your partner, visualizing hospitals, and preparing for a fight that shouldn’t even be necessary speaks volumes about the burden this broken system places on so many. The worst part is that your concerns are SO valid. I am not a black woman but I lived my own pregnancy nightmare. My symptoms were dismissed and “no apparent distress” was written on my intake form at the ER when I was actually dying from an ectopic pregnancy. There is so much prejudice and lack of empathy in the medical field. Change is long overdue, and having conversations like these are so important in pushing for a system that respects every person equally.