When you read statistics about Black women feeling unsupported during pregnancy, it can quietly spark anxiety—especially if you’re an expectant mother yourself. Because those outcomes are not as rare as they should be. According to a recent Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) report, Black women experience maternal mortality rates nearly three times higher than white women. While some maternal deaths are associated with conditions like hypertension, diabetes, or obesity, racial disparities persist—even in the absence of these factors, often due to delayed care, dismissed symptoms, and systemic gaps in how Black women are treated during pregnancy and delivery.
These disparities reflect ongoing gaps in care—and reinforce a painful reality: Black women’s voices are not always heard or taken seriously during pregnancy and delivery. As more Black women share their stories and shed light on what’s happening in delivery rooms, the truth behind these experiences is becoming harder to ignore.
For Jennifer Miller, LCSW-S, this experience is deeply personal—she faced this kind of dismissal firsthand, and the memory remains vivid. At the time of her deliveries, Miller was a trauma psychotherapist specializing in perinatal mental health. Despite having the clinical knowledge and vocabulary to advocate for herself, she still found herself navigating the very systemic medical neglect that disproportionately affects Black mothers.
After undergoing an urgent C-section with her first child, Miller recalls experiencing a level of pain that felt worse than the surgery itself. “Once my catheter was removed, I was unable to urinate, and my bladder began to fill to a dangerous and painful level,” she said. “I was left in crisis until a shift change occurred.”
When a new nurse came on, she immediately recognized the issue through an ultrasound and reinserted the catheter. But the impact of being ignored lingered long after the moment had passed. The pattern of dismissal repeated a year later during her second pregnancy. After noticing decreased fetal movement and experiencing contractions, Miller went to the hospital seeking care. “For hours, the staff in Labor and Delivery argued with me, insisting that I wasn’t having the contractions I could physically feel,” she said.
That dismissal quickly escalated into panic when providers were suddenly unable to find her baby’s heartbeat. Within moments, she was rushed into the operating room. She recalls the cold splash of betadine against her skin as the team prepared for emergency surgery. There was no time for a spinal block. She was placed under general anesthesia. She credits her husband for stepping in when she couldn’t. “He was my voice. If I said I was in pain, I was in pain. If I said I was having contractions, I was—he didn’t back down,” she said.
Despite widespread awareness of the Black maternal health crisis, many women like Miller still find themselves unheard in moments that matter most. Dr. Rosalyn Miller, an OB-GYN at Houston Methodist Sugar Land Hospital, says patients should be direct and specific when they feel overlooked. “The most important thing I tell patients is that you are your own best advocate,” she said. “If a provider is dismissing your concerns, don’t get silent—get specific. Ask them to document in your chart that you have reported an issue that is not being addressed.”
She explains that asking providers to document concerns can shift the dynamic of the conversation and ensure patients’ concerns are taken seriously. She also encourages patients to be specific when describing their symptoms, including when the pain began, how severe it is, and how it’s progressing, and to directly request an evaluation. If concerns continue to be dismissed, Dr. Miller advises escalating the issue by requesting a patient advocate or charge nurse. “Good intentions are not enough,” she said. “Improving care requires providers to actively examine their own biases and listen more closely to their patients.”
What Miller experienced was not only physically traumatic but also psychologically destabilizing—an impact that extended far beyond the delivery room and deeply impacted her mental health. Nearly six years later, she says she is still working through the somatic effects of that experience in therapy. “In the months that followed, I experienced depression that felt like a heavy, permanent weight,” she said. “I also struggled with an immense sense of shame and self-doubt. I felt like I should have been able to use my clinical knowledge to prevent this—or to ‘fix’ myself faster.”
Miller’s experience reflects a broader pattern. According to Black Mamas Matter Alliance, 40% of Black women experience maternal mental health symptoms—yet far too many go untreated. “What we’re seeing is the downstream effect of structural racism embedded in health care systems that were not designed with Black women as a priority,” Dr. Miller said.
Until meaningful change occurs, Black women will continue to feel ignored within the healthcare system. For Miller, her story is not just about what happened—it’s a call for accountability. For Black women, that accountability can mean the difference between life and death.