Propaganda, Power, and Postpartum: Why Caring for Mothers Is a Revolutionary Act

I am fascinated by propaganda. Especially now, in a time when the U.S. administration is not only spreading obscene lies but wrapping them in rudimentary language and calculated simplicity. This is classic propaganda - strategically shaped messaging designed to manipulate, to control, to destroy nuance. And today, we are witnessing its use in a coordinated effort to dismantle Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) programs, gut reproductive rights, and strip away basic bodily autonomy.

This is an attack on women. On people of color. On queer and trans communities. On anyone who isn't a rich, cisgender, white man.

In the state of Georgia, a woman named Adriana Smith - an ICU nurse and mother of four - was declared brain-dead at just eight weeks pregnant. Due to the state’s abortion ban, her body was kept on life support to continue gestating a nonviable fetus. Her family was denied the right to make decisions about her care. This is not dystopian fiction. This is reality. We are not living in The Handmaid’s Tale - are we?

So what do we do in the face of this?

We fight propaganda with counter-propaganda. We fight control with care. We flood the world with stories that uplift, dignify, and transform.

I’m on a mission to flip the narrative- to reclaim birth as sacred, transformative, and fundamentally worthy of reverence. To reimagine support for mothers not as a luxury or afterthought, but as the foundation of a healthy society. To normalize the presence of doulas - not as a privilege of the wealthy, but as a basic standard of care embedded into the infrastructure of our communities.

Because here’s the truth: when we care for mothers, we create a ripple effect of well-being that extends into families, communities, and generations. And when we don’t, the consequences are devastating.

The Science of Support: ACEs and Attachment

The Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study, conducted by the CDC and Kaiser Permanente in the 1990s, revealed a powerful connection between childhood trauma and long-term health. Children who experience high levels of adversity - such as abuse, neglect, or household dysfunction - have a significantly higher risk of chronic illness, mental health disorders, and early death. Dr. Nadine Burke Harris, California's first Surgeon General, explains that children exposed to very high doses of adversity have triple the lifetime risk of heart disease and lung cancer, and a 20-year difference in life expectancy.

But here’s the key: trauma does not always become toxic. The buffer is secure attachment. When a child has a safe, consistent, emotionally available caregiver - often the mother - their body and brain learn to cope with stress. The early years, particularly ages 0-3, are foundational for developing healthy attachment and emotional regulation.

This is why maternal well-being matters. When a mother is supported, she is more capable of offering that secure base. When she is neglected, overwhelmed, or isolated, her ability to show up for her child is compromised.

For example, in my state of Colorado, the leading causes of maternal death are suicide and accidental overdose. That is not a biological inevitability. That is the result of a society that has failed to support mothers.

Doulas Are Not a Luxury - They’re Infrastructure

Doulas are professionally trained support people who provide continuous physical, emotional, and informational support before, during, and after childbirth. Research shows that doula support reduces the likelihood of cesarean birth, decreases the use of pain medication, shortens labor, and increases satisfaction with the birth experience.

And yet, doulas are still often portrayed in media as crystal-wielding hippies or adding pieces of your placenta to a smoothie. Or even worse- portrayed as undermining medical professionals and disruptive, therefore not welcome in many hospitals around the world. While many doulas do incorporate ritual and ancestral practices, or advocvate for their clients, these stereotypes miss the point.

Doulas are one of the few interventions shown to improve outcomes while being low-cost and risk-free. We are the bridge between the medical system and the emotional, physical, spiritual, and psychological needs of the birthing person. We are witnesses, advocates, educators, translators, and protectors of sacred transformation..

And most critically, we are needed.

Birth as a Mirror of Society

The stories we tell about birth reflect the values of our society. Today, in the United States, those stories include a rising maternal mortality rate, lack of paid leave, and systemic racism embedded in obstetric care.

But it didn’t used to be this way. From the dawn of humanity, birth was communal. Until roughly 100 years ago, nearly all births happened at home, attended by midwives and family - particularly women. Then came the medicalization of birth, which often stripped away autonomy, cultural practices, and continuity of care.

Propaganda plagued this transformation. As birth moved into hospitals and under the authority of (mostly male) physicians, the knowledge and roles of traditional birthkeepers - especially Black midwives in the American South - were deliberately erased. Black "granny midwives," who had delivered thousands of babies across generations, were excluded from formal medical training and had their expertise dismissed. The ripple effect was devastating. Their absence meant the loss of ancestral, community-rooted wisdom that had long served Black families with dignity and skill.

Racism and propaganda continued to shape public perception - especially around breastfeeding. In the mid-20th century, formula companies launched aggressive campaigns to promote formula as a modern, scientific alternative to breastfeeding. Their marketing leaned on aspirational images of affluent white women, reinforcing the idea that breastfeeding was outdated or unsophisticated. For Black women, the impact was particularly profound: generations of trauma tied to being forced to wet nurse during slavery had already fractured breastfeeding culture. The formula industry exploited this history, further distancing many from traditional infant feeding practices.

Today, those legacies persist. According to the CDC, Black infants have the lowest rates of breastfeeding initiation (74.1%) compared to white infants (86.7%), and disparities in access to lactation support continue to mirror broader patterns of racial inequity in maternal health care.

The Bigger Picture: Systemic Change Starts at the Beginning

We cannot separate maternal health from larger social structures. When we deny paid parental leave, lack universal healthcare, and push parents back to work just weeks postpartum, we communicate that caregiving is not valuable. But the data says otherwise.

• According to the CDC, over 80% of maternal deaths in the U.S. between 2017 and 2019 were deemed preventable.

• According to Postpartum Support Internationa, approximately 1 in 5 women in the U.S. experiences postpartum depression, with rates varying by race, age, and access to care.

• Children with at least one stable, supportive relationship with a caregiver are significantly more resilient in the face of adversity. Secure caregiver-child attachment is one of the most powerful buffers against the long-term effects of trauma.

• Multiple studies show that continuous support from doulas leads to lower cesarean rates, reduced need for pain medication, shorter labor, and improved satisfaction with the birth experience.

And the consequences of neglect ripple far beyond the first year of life. Research shows that 50% to 80% of youth involved in the juvenile justice system have had a history of involvement with child welfare services, including foster care. In fact, children who age out of foster care are significantly more likely to experience incarceration compared to their peers who were never in care. One longitudinal study published in the Journal of Orthopsychiatry found that nearly 60% of young men aging out of foster care were arrested within four years of emancipation, and over 80% had been charged with a crime.

This is not an accident - it is the result of chronic disinvestment in the family unit, beginning at birth. When children grow up in unstable environments without consistent attachment figures or systemic support, the ripple effects are profound: into education, employment, housing, and the criminal justice system.

The foster care to prison pipeline is a symptom of a society that fails to protect its most vulnerable by failing to support their mothers from the very beginning.

When we don’t support mothers, we don’t just risk their health. We risk the future well-being of their children, and by extension, the health and stability of our society as a whole.

The World Needs More Birthworkers

Globally, the World Health Organization estimates that 80% of maternal deaths are preventable with access to skilled care during pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum. In low-resource settings, the absence of trained midwives is one of the leading factors contributing to maternal mortality.

We need more midwives. We need a cultural shift that not only makes midwifery education more accessible, but also more desirable. We need to protect midwives. To pay them well. To honor their wisdom and alleviate their burden.

Because the burnout rate in birthwork is high. The responsibility is immense. The weight of life and death is not metaphorical - it’s real. And the systems surrounding birth often focus more on control than compassion. Hospital policies are often designed not around physiological birth, but around minimizing liability.

Why? Because birth is full of the unexpected. No two births are ever the same, despite the fact that there are really only two exits for the baby. We must design systems that can hold complexity, not erase it.

Birth is the most universal thing there is. Alongside death, it’s one of the few experiences shared by every human on this planet. And yet birth is hidden, medicalized, feared.

In between birth and death, we’re here for a blink of time. One of the most important events for the existence of our species - birth - is known worldwide as traumatic. Tucked behind locked doors. Stripped of reverence.

At Wombs of the World, we travel the globe to learn from women who have kept the ancestral wisdom alive. Who remember the ceremonies, the plants, the sacredness of transformation. Who believe in the body. Who know that birth can be beautiful. And they generously share this knoweldge with our eager participants so that we can go home and serve our respective communities with more tools of care.

Colonization and the Global Spread of Medicalized Birth

But let’s not forget why so much of this wisdom was lost. The colonization of birth was not an accident. It was a deliberate dismantling of community knowledge in favor of state-sanctioned control. The rise of western medicine - and its global spread as the dominant, superior model - has left a trail of outdated and often violent practices in its wake.

Around the world, many hospitals still operate under protocols inherited from colonial medicine: forced positions, routine episiotomies, coercive cesareans, and denial of companions. In Tanzania, for example, laboring people are often denied support and subjected to disrespectful care not because the midwives don’t care, but because the system is broken.

We must flip the script.

Let birth be beautiful. Let postpartum be supported. Let the systems we build be rooted in reverence, not repression.

Reclaiming the Narrative: Make Love and Hire a Doula

So here is my proposal. Let’s flood the world with new propaganda.

Let’s make it expected to have a doula, just like it’s expected to have a wedding planner, a personal trainer, or a financial advisor. We invest in guidance and support for weddings, workouts, and wealth - but not for one of the most physically intense, emotionally charged, and life-altering events we ever experience? That just makes no sense. That needs to change.

Let’s celebrate midwives and postpartum care. Let’s push for policies that prioritize families.

Because when mothers are supported, children thrive. When children thrive, societies heal.

Make love and hire a doula.

And if you are a birthworker reading this - thank you. Your work is sacred. It is radical. It is revolutionary. Being a professional care person in this world is not easy. It’s often invisible, undervalued, and done against the grain of systems designed to ignore the human spirit.

But every time you hold space for a birth, every time you show up with compassion, every time you protect someone’s dignity - you’re participating in a quiet revolution.

So keep going. Keep rising. We need you.

If you’re ready to build a world that supports mothers, reach out. We’re working on a lot right now- and we need the right passionate heads and hearts to join us.