Maternal Mortality among Black Women in America

Maternal mortality remains one of the most devastating public health crises in the United States, and it disproportionately affects Black women. Despite advances in medicine and access to modern healthcare facilities, Black women in America are dying during pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum at alarming rates.
According to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), Black women are three to four times more likely to die from pregnancy-related complications than white women. This disparity exists across education levels, income brackets, and geographic locations, proving that racism—not race—is the underlying factor.
This crisis is not new. The legacy of neglect and mistreatment of Black women in medical settings dates back to slavery, where enslaved women were subjected to medical experimentation without consent. The echoes of that dehumanization continue today in the form of implicit bias and structural racism within the healthcare system.
One of the most tragic aspects of maternal mortality among Black women is that the majority of these deaths are preventable. Many of the complications—such as hemorrhage, preeclampsia, and infections—can be managed effectively when detected early and treated appropriately. However, Black women’s pain and symptoms are too often dismissed or minimized by medical professionals.
High-profile cases have brought more visibility to the issue. In 2017, tennis superstar Serena Williams nearly died from a blood clot shortly after giving birth, despite her fame and access to top medical care. Her doctors initially ignored her complaints. Her story mirrors what countless Black women experience in silence.
The reasons behind this crisis are complex and multilayered. Implicit bias among healthcare providers is one of the most significant contributors. Studies have shown that Black women are less likely to be listened to, receive adequate pain relief, or have their concerns taken seriously in clinical settings.
Socioeconomic factors also play a role, but they don’t explain the disparity entirely. Even wealthy, educated Black women face significantly higher risks than their white counterparts. This points to systemic issues that cut across class lines—issues deeply rooted in how the healthcare system interacts with race.
Chronic stress caused by racism—known as “weathering”—also contributes to poor health outcomes for Black women. The constant strain of navigating a society that devalues their lives can take a biological toll, increasing the risk of high blood pressure, heart disease, and pregnancy complications.
Lack of access to comprehensive prenatal and postpartum care exacerbates the problem. In many communities of color, particularly in rural and underserved urban areas, hospitals have closed or downsized maternity services. The result is long travel times, limited appointment availability, and inadequate follow-up care.
Postpartum care is a particularly neglected area. Many complications occur not during delivery but in the weeks and months following birth. Yet most women in the U.S., especially those without stable insurance, receive little or no medical attention after they leave the hospital.
Insurance coverage is another barrier. Medicaid covers about half of all births in the U.S., and many Black women rely on it. However, coverage often ends just 60 days postpartum, cutting off access to critical follow-up services. This policy gap leaves new mothers vulnerable during one of the most medically fragile times in their lives.
Community-based solutions are proving effective in bridging the gap. Black doulas, midwives, and maternal health advocates have long provided culturally competent care that prioritizes the voices and experiences of Black women. Their presence during pregnancy and birth has been shown to improve outcomes.
Organizations like the Black Mamas Matter Alliance and SisterSong are leading the fight for reproductive justice and advocating for policies that address the root causes of maternal mortality in Black communities. Their work is reshaping how maternal health is approached at local and national levels.
Policy reform is essential. Recent efforts such as the Black Maternal Health Momnibus Act—a package of bills introduced in Congress—aim to expand access to care, fund community-based organizations, and address social determinants of health. If passed, it could be a transformative step in closing the maternal mortality gap.
Education and training are also critical. Healthcare providers must be educated about racial disparities and implicit bias. This goes beyond cultural sensitivity—it requires institutions to adopt accountability measures that ensure all patients are treated with respect and dignity.
Data collection must improve as well. Many states lack detailed, disaggregated data on maternal health outcomes, making it difficult to track progress or identify high-risk populations. Accurate reporting and robust maternal mortality review boards are key to understanding and addressing the crisis.
Men and families must also be included in the conversation. Partners, fathers, and family members can play a vital role in advocating for Black mothers during prenatal appointments and childbirth, ensuring that their voices are heard and their concerns validated.
Mental health is another critical component. The emotional toll of pregnancy and childbirth is often compounded by trauma, anxiety, and depression—especially when women feel unseen or unheard. Integrating mental health support into maternal care is essential for long-term well-being.
The maternal mortality crisis among Black women in America is a reflection of broader societal injustices. To address it, we must challenge racism at every level—medical, institutional, and cultural. Only then can we ensure that every Black woman has a fair and fighting chance to survive pregnancy and thrive in motherhood.
The lives of Black mothers matter. Their health, their voices, and their experiences must be centered in efforts to reform healthcare and ensure reproductive justice. Solving this crisis is not only a moral imperative—it is a national priority. Because when Black mothers are safe and supported, entire communities flourish.