TL;DR
Black women in America are dying from pregnancy-related causes at nearly 3.5 times the rate of white women — and in Louisiana, that number is even worse. Meanwhile, Congress has passed cuts that will strip Medicaid coverage from the very care that Black mothers depend on. More than 80% of these deaths are preventable. This article tells you what is happening, why it matters to our community, and exactly what to do right now.
Key Points
- In 2023, Black women died from pregnancy-related causes at a rate of 50.3 per 100,000 live births — nearly 3.5 times the rate for white women.
- While maternal mortality declined for every other racial group, it did not decline for Black women.
- Medicaid pays for more than 60% of births to Black mothers. H.R.1’s nearly $1 trillion in cuts now puts that coverage directly at risk.
- In Louisiana, Black women are already 2.5 times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes — and 100,000 Louisianans stand to lose Medicaid coverage by December 2026.
- More than half of maternal deaths happen after the birth, not during it. The postpartum period is where Black women are most vulnerable — and most alone.
Our Mothers Are Dying. The System Knows. And Now It Is Cutting the Only Safety Net They Have.
I want to talk to you about something that is happening right now, in our community, to women we know. Not statistics we read about. Not someone else’s story. Ours.
Black women in America are dying from pregnancy-related causes at nearly 3.5 times the rate of white women. In 2023, when maternal mortality declined for every other racial group in this country, it did not decline for Black women. We were the only group that did not improve. And more than 80% of those deaths were preventable. That last part is the one that should stop us cold — because preventable means somebody could have done something. Somebody did not.
Now Congress has passed H.R.1, a reconciliation bill that slashes nearly $1 trillion from Medicaid over the next decade. Medicaid pays for more than 60% of births to Black mothers in this country. For our community, this is not an abstract budget debate. It is a direct threat to the lives of the women sitting next to us in church, at work, and at the family table.
What Is Actually Killing Black Mothers — and When
Before we can talk about what to do, we need to understand what is happening. The leading causes of maternal death among Black women include preeclampsia, postpartum cardiomyopathy — a form of heart failure that emerges weeks or months after delivery — and severe bleeding during childbirth. Preeclampsia alone appears in Black mothers about 60% more often than in white mothers, and their risk of dying from it is roughly five times greater.
However, here is what most people do not know: more than half of all maternal deaths do not happen in the delivery room. They happen after. In the days, weeks, and months following birth — a period when most women have already been discharged, when medical visits become less frequent, and when the system largely stops paying attention. Among Black women specifically, a larger share of losses occur in what researchers call the late postpartum period — 43 days to a full year after delivery.
That means the danger does not end when a Black mother walks out of the hospital with her baby. In many cases, it is just beginning. And the coverage she needs to survive that period is exactly what H.R.1 is cutting.
In Louisiana, the Crisis Is Already Here
For those of us in Louisiana, this is not a national story at arm’s length. It is happening here, right now, in our parishes.
Louisiana already ranks 48th in maternal and child health outcomes. Black women in this state are 2.5 times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women — a gap that reflects decades of underfunded care, under-resourced hospitals, and under-listened-to patients. More than half of Louisiana’s parishes are considered maternity care deserts, meaning obstetric care is absent or dangerously limited. Over a third have no obstetric provider or hospital unit at all.
Under H.R.1, 100,000 Louisianans are expected to lose Medicaid coverage when new work requirements take effect in December 2026. To preserve current coverage levels, Louisiana would need to increase its own Medicaid spending by 400% — a financial impossibility in a state already struggling to meet basic healthcare needs. When those hospitals close their obstetric units because Medicaid reimbursements dry up, a mother in New Orleans East, in Avoyelles Parish, in St. John the Baptist Parish will have nowhere to go. That is not a hypothetical. That is the plan in motion.
The System Was Not Built for Us. That Does Not Mean We Stop Fighting It.
I hear sometimes that these numbers are just how things are. That Black women have always had worse outcomes and always will. I want to push back on that directly, because the research does not support it. Black women do not die at higher rates because of our biology. We die at higher rates because of what happens to us in the system — how our pain gets minimized, how our symptoms get dismissed, how our postpartum visits get missed, and how our coverage gets cut when the money runs short.
Research has shown that Black patients who receive care from Black providers have better outcomes — more preventive care, more follow-through, more trust. Additionally, studies show that racially concordant care — being seen by someone who shares your background — closes gaps that decades of policy have failed to close. That matters when we think about what our community needs to demand, not just for ourselves, but for our daughters, our sisters, and every woman who is pregnant right now and does not yet know what she is walking into.
The Warning Signs Every Black Woman and Her Family Should Know
Because most maternal deaths happen after delivery, and because the system is about to become less available — not more — every Black woman who is pregnant, recently delivered, or supporting someone who is needs to know these warning signs. Do not wait. Go to the emergency room or call 911 immediately if you or someone you love experiences any of the following in the weeks or months after birth:
Severe headache that does not go away. Chest pain or shortness of breath. Swelling in the face, hands, or legs that appears suddenly. Vision changes, including blurriness or seeing spots. Extreme fatigue that feels different from normal new-mother exhaustion. Fever above 100.4 degrees. Heavy bleeding that soaks more than one pad per hour. Feelings of hopelessness, thoughts of harming yourself or your baby — these are medical emergencies, not character flaws, and they deserve emergency care.
Furthermore, do not let anyone — doctor, nurse, or family member — dismiss these symptoms. You are allowed to say: “I am a Black woman, I know we are at higher risk, and I need this taken seriously.” That is not drama. That is self-advocacy. In many cases, it is the difference between going home and not going home.
What You Can Do Right Now
The situation is serious. Serious does not mean hopeless. Here is the action list for our community.
Know the resources. The National Maternal Mental Health Hotline is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, at 1-833-943-5746. For postpartum support, contact Postpartum Support International at 1-800-944-4773. These are free. These are real. Save them in your phone today — not for yourself if you do not need them, but for someone you love who might.
Support Black-led maternal health organizations. The Black Mamas Matter Alliance, Sisters in Loss, and the Shades of Blue Project are doing life-saving work, often with small budgets and without the institutional resources they deserve. Give what you can. Share their work. Amplify their voices. Their websites are a starting point for anyone who wants to go deeper on this issue.
Contact your representatives — specifically about Medicaid. The cuts in H.R.1 are not yet fully implemented. Louisiana’s congressional delegation needs to hear from constituents who understand what these cuts mean at the ground level. Call, write, and show up. Use your voice while there is still time for it to matter.
Be the village. If someone you know is pregnant or newly delivered, check on her — not just once, but consistently through the first year. Bring food. Offer to sit with the baby. Ask her directly how she is feeling, not just how the baby is doing. The postpartum period is when Black women are most isolated and most at risk. Community is not a soft concept here. It is a survival strategy.
Our mothers deserve to come home from the hospital. Our sisters deserve to see their children grow up. Our daughters deserve a system that treats their lives as worth saving. That system is not fully here yet — but we are. And until it arrives, we take care of each other. That has always been our way. It still is.
Related Reading on Black Source Media
Sources
- CDC / National Center for Health Statistics — Maternal Mortality in the United States, 2023
- Georgetown University Center for Children and Families — “Rooted in Justice and Joy: What Black Maternal Health Demands of Us Right Now,” April 2026
- The Century Foundation — “State Actions to Protect Black Maternal Health,” October 2025
- NOLA.com / The Times-Picayune — “Cuts to Medicaid a threat to maternal care,” Guest Column 2025
- BlackDoctor.org — “Black Maternal Health Week 2026: What You Need to Know Right Now,” April 2026
- Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health — “Solving the Black Maternal Health Crisis,” 2023
- Black Mamas Matter Alliance — 2026 BMHW Toolkit (blackmamasmatter.org)
- National Maternal Mental Health Hotline — 1-833-943-5746
- Postpartum Support International — 1-800-944-4773
Denise Tureaud
Denise Tureaud writes about health, wellness, and community life for Black Source Media. A New Orleans insider, she leads with heart before data and believes that healing our community starts with telling it the truth.
Health & Wellness Columnist — Black Source Media
Denise Tureaud
Health Writer • Wellness Advocate • New Orleans Community Voice • Wednesday Columnist
Denise Tureaud is Black Source Media’s Wednesday health and wellness columnist, writing for and about the Black women, men, and families of New Orleans with the directness and specificity that community deserves. She does not traffic in generic wellness advice. She writes about the real conditions — financial stress, insurance discrimination, systemic health disparities — that shape Black health outcomes in Louisiana and across America.
Her Wednesday series covers the intersection of personal health and systemic reality. She translates peer-reviewed research into actionable, plain-language guidance for readers who have been underserved by both the healthcare system and the health media that claims to speak for them. Her work on financial stress and cardiovascular disease brought new NIH-backed research directly to Black Source Media readers months before it reached mainstream health publications.
Tureaud writes with the voice of a New Orleans Black woman who has seen too many people she loves suffer from conditions that were preventable — and who believes that information, delivered honestly and directly, is one of the most powerful health interventions available.
Selected Articles by Denise Tureaud
Your Bills Are Breaking Your Heart. Literally.
Black Men Health Disparities: Why We Die Younger and What We Can Do About It (Strong Enough to Live Series)
View All Articles by Denise Tureaud at Black Source Media