Ten years after investigating America’s maternal health crisis for Women’s eNews in New York City, I’m shocked to find that our country still lags in saving women’s lives during the most vulnerable time in her life – pregnancy and delivery.
I’m even more despairing now that I am a pregnant mom and resident of Missouri, which ranks 42nd in the nation for deaths during or shortly after pregnancy. My state’s maternal mortality rate is on the rise, with 32.6 pregnancy-related deaths per 100,000 live births in 2017 compared to 28.5 deaths per 100,000 live births in 2016, data released this March by the UnitedHealth Foundation reveals. For context, the national average is 20.7 maternal deaths per 100,000 live births.
Black women in Missouri face an even more staggering maternal mortality rate of 65 deaths per 100,000 live births, compared to 28 deaths per 100,000 births for white women.
As a black mom, I’m deeply unsettled by this crisis. Despite Missouri’s state-of-the-art hospitals, my beloved Show Me State has shown zero progress in reducing pregnancy-related deaths and the medical race gap.
When I first started reporting on maternal mortality, I learned how black women are more likely to face poverty, obesity, hypertension and diabetes, which are all risk factors that put their pregnancies in jeopardy.
However, many are not aware that despite a black woman’s income and education level, she is still at a much greater risk of maternal mortality than white women. Studies started to indicate in 2008 that regardless of a black woman’s status and position in society, she was still more likely to go under in the hospital.
This fact pointed to a glaring medical mystery that left no other culprit than the downright mediocre care many black women face inside the maternity ward.
Having to navigate hospital care myself, I finally understand that hospitals are a leading cause of complications during pregnancy. In just the last eight months, I’ve bounced around hospitals trying to find stress-free, high-level care. To my surprise, the most lauded maternity hospital in St. Louis delivered the most rude and discriminatory service.
Mercy Hospital is the best-rated hospital for maternity care in Missouri. And at first, its staff was very friendly and caring. But once Mercy realized my partner and I were seeking a natural-birth plan, rather than an aggressive protocol of vaccinations and ultrasounds, Mercy’s respect flew out the window. Instead of applying sensitivity to my case, they used the fear of death to try and coax me into getting this shot or another – making every prenatal visit a sheer stress.
When we mentioned we’d refuse the routine hepatitis B vaccine for newborns, Dr. Diane E. Rosen swiftly threatened that Mercy would report us to child protective services. When we put a stop to other interventions, she made it clear it would be a great inconvenience. Finally, Dr. Rosen kicked me out her practice just three weeks before my due date because I told her I’d refuse antibiotic treatment during my delivery unless an emergency popped up.
Since then, the stress of finding the right care so close to my due date has been real. And it’s this kind of stress that is hurting moms across Missouri and the country.
Although Missouri’s mothers are dying at an alarming rate, its Legislature recently voted against establishing a special committee to study the state’s increasing maternal mortalities. State Rep. Sarah Unsicker sponsoring the bill admittedly left out the issue of racial disparity to avoid alienating her white colleagues, she told the Kansas City Star this June.
But it’s exactly this kind of fear and a lack of professional courage that strips Missouri of its ability to change.
As the days inch closer to my delivery, only prayer and a deep sense of knowing everything is going to be okay is getting me through.
My hope now is that all mothers demand better. Rather than waiting for doctors and lawmakers to wake up, we must be fearless and counter this reckless maternal care with gracious yet firm refusal. We must be open to alternative care such as home birth and midwifery, and develop the expertise and healthy lifestyle to have safe pregnancies.
That way, one day, we’ll have much more than a hope and prayer to run on. We’ll soon have a real health system that is truly capable of empowering and saving our lives.
Malena Amusa is a writer, communications strategist and mom living in St. Louis. You can reach her at Malenanow@gmail.com.
