As I begin my journey into womanhood, I find things such as starting a family crossing my mind more and more. I think: When do I want to start having children? How many do I want? How much time does that give me to plan my own life and career?
I have always loved children, and I’ve always looked forward to the—very far—day I will begin having them. Most of the time when I ask myself these questions, it’s for fun. I have no serious inclination to have children any time soon, and, in my opinion, there’s no harm in wondering. However, as I have become more educated in health care—and the health care afforded to Black women—those questions have started to change. Now I think: Where should I have my baby? What if they don’t have Doulas where I live? What can I do to make sure I’m as safe as possible during childbirth? What if I don’t get the chance to ever meet my child? Why am I so scared?
These are not questions anyone who desires to have children should have to ask themselves. Yet the many experiences of Black women in hospitals rooms—and the alarmingly high rates of maternal mortality amongst them—has led to concerns such as these. If I’m being honest, the idea of having children now terrifies as equally as it excites me.
Jaronda Miller-Bryant, the author of the oral history you will be listening to today, is a remarkable human being. Currently, she oversees the internship program at the Women's Center and leads the Young Women Leaders Program in collaboration with our colleagues at UVA's Curry School of Education and Human Development. Preceding this, she received her B.A. in Psychology/Military Science at Spelman College, her M.S. in Counseling with a Concentration in School Counseling at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, and her Ph.D. in Sociology with Concentrations in Race and Ethnic Relations and Education Stratifications at Northeastern University.
Somewhere in between all that excellence, she became a mother of two—and that’s the story we're going to listen to today. As a Black Women from the rural South, Jaronda’s experience with childbirth not only touched me, but greatly unnerved me. But that’s ok. Her story was the truth. Her story was one I’m sure many can relate to, but never get a chance to share. Or perhaps these women do share, but like most cases, we are not listened to. I urge you to not simply give an ear to Jaronda’s oral history today, but to listen to it. React to it. Admire this woman for all her strength, but do not admire the pain and hardship she was put through simply for the color of her skin.
I hope this oral history will change you. I hope it will move something within you. I hope you’ll take it with you beyond the scope of this encounter. Lastly, I hope that next time a Black Woman opens her mouth: you won’t just hear us—and you’ll do more than just listen to us—you’ll trust us.
*The following is a transcription from:13:15-29:00, one of the most impactful moments during the oral history—condensed for clarity and with a few choice parts highlighted for emphasis.
Jaronda:
...But the problem came after I had the baby and the complications from having the baby that are markedly different, that are marked as unfortunate in my experience. So you know, I had an emergency c-section. Because the baby was so big, [the doctor] had to do a lot of cutting to get to the baby. And afterwards he was telling me that he had cut for like 30 minutes, just to kind of get through and get to, and he was very skilled. [The doctor] was great, he actually sang Barry White to me (laughs) but—after I had the baby, I was in a lot of pain. And so, the first piece that I thought it was like an unfortunate experience was that I had a nurse who refused to give me pain medicine because, um, I can only assume she thought that I was going to have... like I was just wanting it or that I just, or maybe, and you know, you've seen all these studies about um, well they're horrible, but like the studies that say that black women have a higher tolerance for pain—have you seen that crap? Right. And so then looking back, I wasn't thinking any of this, but now I'm like, okay, this is an issue. And I started to replay my experience through the lens of being educated—about how this is not just a Jaronda thing, that this is a bigger thing. So, I think about how I just had this 12-pound baby and um, I was in, um, I was holding my baby and everything. Everybody had gone home. It was nighttime and I was holding him and I'm sitting on a couch and my bed was a distance from me. And so was the little...the notification thing. Right? So, I realize I'm in trouble. Like when you have to have surgery, you're not supposed to lift more than 10 pounds. I'm sitting, I have a 12-pound baby and I cannot get up. I can't literally, I can't get up. And so, I all but scream, I'm like "HELP!" You know, like, “help me!” And I actually almost dropped my baby ‘cause I was like, I've got to get up from here. Cause one: I was starting to have pain and so because of the effort it took for me to get up with him, get to the bed, not drop him, I was having more pain than usual. And so, I finally get someone to come in and the woman, the nurse that treated me…sometimes it's hard to put a finger on things, you know, but kinda [she] treated me like it was my fault or I was aggravating her or like she just didn't want to do it. Like whatever I was asked.
Lizz:
Like hostility?
Jaronda:
Yes. She was kind of like, you know, kind of snatching around like, “ah, well, you know, let me get your baby.” And I don't remember the exact words, but I remember feeling the energy. And I had a couple things that went wrong. I was asking her for the medicine they were giving me, morphine. And so—but I don't know if it was like a certain time that they can give it to you, but I was explaining to her that I needed something, like whether it's Tylenol or something else and she was refusing and I said “I can't stay like this.” Like this is unbearable—literally you've been cut. And when they give you a C-section, sometimes the abs separate. And so imagine your body's trying to constrict and do this thing 'cause they know it's not supposed to be separated. Um, and it's very painful. It's very painful. So she wasn't giving me the medication. It just was a bad energy. It was like she didn't think I needed it or she thought that I was exaggerating or what.
And so—but here's the thing. So, I didn't know that I was allergic to morphine (chuckles). So when she would give me the morphine, it would make me itch all over. And so I remember asking her for Benadryl, right? And so (chuckles) to make matters worse, you know, Benadryl can make you sleepy, drowsy, right? And some people, you know, abuse it. And so me asking for pain medicine and then asking for Benadryl just did not sit well with this lady. She's just like you are—she didn't say this, but it's like "You're a nuisance. You've got an issue. Like this is childbirth. It's not supposed to be easy. Like, I'm on a regimen, I can only do this. I can only do that." And it was like the bedside manner. Even if it was like, “Oh, hey Jaronda, I can't give you any medicine for another two hours.” At least explain that to me in a way that is considerate and just like, I know you're hurting and I'm going to be the best I can, or I can give you an ice pack, or I can do... [but] it was none of that—it was: I can't give you any more medicine. And so, I felt like, I felt bad. I felt like mis-mistrusted. I just felt… I just felt helpless. I just felt like I couldn't—I wasn't in the state of mind to fully convey... like had I had all my right faculties—like look (chuckles) I don't know what your issue is, but this is what I need. But you're not—you're in such a vulnerable state when you've had a baby and your advocates are gone. 'Cause after a certain time your families aren't allowed back there. And so I spent that night just feeling helpless and not ashamed, but like, it's kind of like when someone has an image of you and you can't do anything to change it. Right? Because you're so vulnerable, you've already made up your mind…
Lizz:
Judged?
Jaronda:
Just judged. I felt it. That's it. I felt judged and I wasn't in the state of mind to do anything about it. So, and it makes me sad now when I talk about it... it brings up all those things, you know, but, um, anyway… (takes a breath) so the complications from having the baby were that I—and a lot of people experienced this and it goes undiagnosed—I had preeclampsia, which is why I had to have the baby. But in a lot of cases, and I didn't know this, the effects of preeclampsia don't just end when you have the baby. They actually can continue. So I had ridiculously high blood pressure after leaving the hospital and for weeks and I would keep going to the ER. And you know, of course they blamed my diet and they blamed my lifestyle. They blamed all this other stuff.
And I remember saying, look, I'm not doing anything. I'm like, I did water aerobics my whole pregnancy, I exercise, I ate fairly well. And I've never had—I’ve never had high blood pressure in my life ever except for that one point. And then it didn't go away. So truthfully, I probably should be dead because the type of blood pressure that I had, the numbers that I was at, they were triple digits—like 100 something over 100... something high. And the typical blood pressure is like one 120 over 80? I was well over 140, over 100. Like it was crazy. And so, it wasn't until like maybe my third trip to the ER when this little black woman (chuckles) who was a nurse practitioner said, "Honey, this is still your preeclampsia." And she effectively diagnosed me. She's like: this is what this is.
She sat me down and—‘cause in the ER it's kind of like “treat them and street them.” And so, she saw I was suffering. She was just like, you've been here a couple of times, what's going on? And I explained to her my whole pregnancy and she was like, oh, you're gonna have to be on long term blood pressure medicine. This is what it is. I felt such relief, because I was telling my friends—a lot of them are in the medical industry—I just can't get this blood pressure down. And um, and she just (shrugs)... it was so simple! It's like: [preeclampsia] is based from your pregnancy and then may be a long-term thing—and it is—I’m still on blood pressure medicine and probably will be forever. No matter how much weight I lose, no matter what. It’s just kind of on me now.
And so that was labor and post labor. And then out of that I ended up having to go see a—‘cause I have another mixed connective tissue thing—and because she told me that information, I went to go see my kidney doctor, right? Which I didn't have one [where I then lived] ‘cause I didn't have any issues [then]. And so, I went to see a kidney doctor and it was this old white guy. And I said to him, I said, “Look, I'm breastfeeding, whatever you give me for my blood pressure. I absolutely need it not to interfere with my milk, not seep into my milk or anything.” And the clearly horrible doctor just, just didn't hear any of that, gave me medication and what happens? My milk dries up. And even to this day, I mean, I eventually got on the right medication. I stopped seeing that doctor. I was like, he doesn't listen. He's not listening to me at all. To this day, like, my son... has something? I don't know what it is, but he has a cognitive delay. But for a couple of years I thought it was autism, but it's not. And I always question, like, did I do that or did this doctor do that? Because I was still trying to breastfeed him. I don't know what that medication—I—to this day, I don't know what the medication is that he gave me. I can't even look it up if I wanted to, but I'm always questioning, like, did I do that? Did that—did going to see that particular doctor and him giving me that medicine, me being very clear about these things and that being ignored… Is that why? You know how you beat yourself up about stuff? But you know, we're working on it. I just, I just pray that he'll just—or eventually it'll be a thing of the past… Maybe it's just a delay that he catches up—I don't know—but I always think like: did I do something wrong? Did I pick the wrong doctor, you know? But (sighs) we're here and we're fairly happy. (laughs)
Lizz:
I'm proud of all of you, 'cause that's a very…
Jaronda:
That's a lot. It's a lot to bring a child into a world. A black child? It's hard. It is. Because you're not only thinking about, like the regular thing every mother thinks about, you're also thinking about the layers and the racism and the perception and discrimination, stereotypes and all that. And if you make it out—and your baby makes it out: thank your lucky stars.
Lizz:
That’s… I mean… I don't have the word for it.
Jaronda:
I mean unfortunate, unfortunate is what I think. Like it could have been way worse. Yeah. Yeah. Could have been a lot worse. Um, yeah.
Lizz:
I just wanted to go back to something you said when you were talking to little black lady who finally diagnosed you. You said you felt relief and I just wanted to expand on what that feeling was actually like for you. Why would you label it as relief?
Jaronda:
I labeled it as relief because... Honestly, I felt like—I felt like… I felt like I was going to die. I felt like if I kept… I knew enough about high blood pressure ‘cause it kind of runs in my family. I knew enough that if I didn't do something (pauses) it will be the end. You can't walk around with blood pressure that high and it's what they call the silent killer. Right? So, I had massive headaches, which was an indication of how high it was, right? To the point where they were dizzying. So, it wasn't silent for me. I knew something was going on. You know, at one point they had given me—so, at one of the ER visits, they had given me so much medicine to get it down that I threw up, like, I threw up for a while. But it was this point of desperation, like, "Okay, we just—you can't have this high blood pressure. We're giving it—we're coming at it with all barrels, like what's going on?" But they weren't putting me on medication. They were just treating me there. Eventually, you know, I had to follow up with someone, but I think the relief just came from someone explaining it to me.
I just didn't—when you hear preeclampsia, you think prior to the baby and all the stories are that it goes away afterwards. Just like just gestational diabetes, right? A lot of times that just goes away. This is pregnancy specific. I was relieved for the way that she talked to me and the fact that she thought I had common sense, you know? It was like: she'll understand this. I'm going to explain it to her. It was her… the way she treated me. She just treated me like a human being. And comparatively, I wouldn't say that it was outright, that [the others] just treated me horribly. There were those instances, you know, in the delivery room, with that other doctor, the kidney doctor or whatever. But it just—I just don't feel like I got the benefit of the doubt.
Now here's the other thing, put it in context: A lot of the women in the small town, kind of, graduate from high school, get married or don't get married, kind of stay around, may go to college... And so I think I just—I just feel like they may have seen… how do I say this—I don't think I'm any better than them and I don't think that, you know, they're any better than me. But I think sometimes the medical profession, like in that area, the professionals have an assumption. They just assume a lot, and they're not willing to ask a lot of questions, you know? But I think the woman, the nurse practitioner in the doctor's office, was just… I think she probably treated everybody that way. I think she just had a really good sense of connecting with other human beings and I appreciated it, you know? And for someone to tell me what it is,.. like, have you ever had a—say something in your body is going on. If you're like, "Hey, what's that mark or what's this rash" and then someone says, "Oh that is this." And you're like, "Oh, okay. Now I know how to treat that thing." It was that. It was just feeling like I had some answers 'cause I was going to the hospital… (sighs) I was there like every other week or so 'cause of the headaches and the dizziness and the fatigue and it was all because my blood pressure was crazy.
If you wish to listen to the rest of Jaronda’s Oral History, please click here.
