mater mea—Support and Community for Black Moms

 

for black moms

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mater mea helps Black moms live their best lives. We do this through sharing motherhood stories that get real real about this work-life juggle; getting and giving expert advice on everything from finding a midwife to handling microaggressions at work; and sharing resources that can help make being a mom a little easier and a lot less lonely.

 
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Maternity Leave: 5 Things That Help Make Going Back To Work Easier

Returning to work after maternity leave is hard, but these tips can help you handle the transition.

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Is Your Child Being Bullied? 3 Ways You Can Help

Bullying can make children feel alone. Let them know you have their back with these tips.

mater mea - Celebrating Motherhood and Women of Color
Oops, We Did It Again: Making Peace With My Unplanned Pregnancy
Oops, We Did It Again: Making Peace With My Unplanned Pregnancy

What to expect when you are surprised to be expecting.

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H.A.L.T.: 4 Letters That Can Bring You Inner Peace

This executive’s approach to handling stress may be a great addition to your daily self-care routine.

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Meet Samantha Caruso, A Mom Learning To Fall In Love With Herself For Her Children
Meet Samantha Caruso, A Mom Learning To Fall In Love With Herself For Her Children

Step one in creating a positive home environment for your family? Loving yourself.

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16 Podcasts Made For Black Moms, By Black Moms

Black moms need podcasts, too, and these shows deliver.

 
 

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I had the most flawless pregnancy. I went to the hospital at 6 or 7 in the morning. I felt like Beyoncé because the entire hospital seemed empty to me—there was no one in there but us. . When the doctor said, “We’re getting ready to pull her out,” I was listening for her voice. With my prior pregnancies, there was no voice. But she screamed like Janis Joplin. She hollered. I was crying. My husband was like, "Oh my God, oh my God!" They checked her, and then they wrapped her and brought her to me. I started singing "Happy Birthday" to her and the entire room joined in. . We named her Auset. It means “She of the throne,” “Mother of God,” “Creator of all things.” . I’m grateful that my children chose me to even come through. I learned so much. I got closer to Tori and closer to my purpose. Instead of describing it as a loss, it was more like a gain. They are my angels now. My daughter has these siblings. I spoke to them before she was born to aid in her being here. I asked them for their guidance and for their assistance in bringing their sibling forth. I turn to them as my answers, as a source. I didn’t go through what I went through for naught. I turned it around and chose joy. I chose to be grateful and thankful. —@torialamaze (Photo credit: @keylasanders; 🔗 in bio for full story)
After the twins, I felt incapable as a woman. I wondered, What is wrong with my cervix? Why can’t I do this? . . Once I came home, I just sat down. Then two weeks later, I was like, OK. We have to get into the business of figuring this out. Because at this point I’m 37. I was ready to release my husband to another woman so she could bear children for him because I didn't want to stop his life, his desire to have children. So I just started doing research. . . I met with doctor after doctor to get their opinion on my situation. I got my womb checked to make sure there was no blockage, no scarring. And once I did that, the doctor told me, "You have an incompetent cervix." And of course, I hate that word and a man must’ve made it up. I would tell them, respectfully, "We're not going to use the word ‘incompetent,’ because there's nothing incompetent about my body. We just need some assistance. OK?" . . It led me to Dr. Jackie Walters (@therealdrjackie), who was on the reality show Married to Medicine. She was a part of performing my transabdominal cerclage. She became my OB-GYN. When it was done, she came in the room and said, "Everything looks good, you can get pregnant. Give yourself a couple of months for your hormones to get in place, and then you can have a baby." . . About a year later, I got pregnant. I found out a few days before Mother's Day. —@torialamaze . (Photo credit: @keylasanders; 🔗 in bio for full story)
// Four years after losing their son, Tori and her husband learned they were expecting again—this time with twins, a boy and a girl. After learning an "incompetent cervix" was attributed to her first stillbirth, Tori got a procedure called a cervical cerclage to help hold her babies in longer. But unfortunately... // When I was a little over five months pregnant, I was at home alone and had some type of discharge that instinctively didn’t seem normal. I called my best friend and said, "I need you to take me to the hospital right now." . ∆∆∆ My faith was so strong, I was like, "God ain’t going to let this happen to me again." . ∆∆∆ I finally said to my husband, “It’s the worst feeling ever. I can’t do it anymore. It hurts too bad. I have to let go.” I felt my son bear down and the doctor said, "He’s going to come, but he may not make it. But your daughter is up high, and she can stay in longer." [Tori chokes up] I was ok with that. Solomon came out. I didn’t really expect him to live, but I thought, “At least I’ll have one.” . ∆∆∆ I remember him coming. I looked at my husband. "Did he take a breath?" He said no. . ∆∆∆ I said, "Azza? Mommy will breathe for you. I will give you my breath.” I was saying it out loud. My husband said it was breaking his heart, because he said he couldn't bear losing all of us. I was saying, “I will give you my last breath.” [Tori's voice trembles] I was willing to sacrifice me for her. ∆∆∆ She came out soon after him, and she didn't take a breath. . ∆∆∆ I spent time with all of my children. I held them, talked to them, looked at their fingers and their toes and their hairlines. It was the worst pain ever. Ever. I felt God had forsaken me. —@torialamaze (Photo credit: @andrewthomasclifton; 🔗 to full story in bio)
October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Today, we're sharing Tori Johnson-Jones (@torialamaze) powerful story. . I'll never forget. I was at home and I felt a gush of water at six months. We went to the hospital, and I knew, based on their expression, that this was serious. . . I thought, You’re going to be in the hospital, you're going to be in the bed. You're baby is going to be in NICU, but you’ll be OK. Even when I went into contractions and they said “The chances of survival is this percentage versus that percentage," I still felt like, Oh, we'll be fine. . . I have a girlfriend who is a doctor. I wanted her to be in the delivery room with me as part of the delivery process. When I woke up, she was the first one to say, “Issa didn’t take a breath.” . I don't really remember anything after that. . I heard my mother screaming in the hallway. I remember the doctor with sadness in her face. And then I went home. I had full breasts with milk, I had remnants of a C section. There were just several things that I had endured and my body was tired from all the poking and pulling. So when I went home empty handed, it was just depressing. You’re supposed to have a baby, but there's no baby... It was the worst thing I ever felt. . (Photo credit: @andrewthomasclifton; 🔗 to full story in bio)
The depths of my sorrow for losing Nazir were completely paralleled by the heights of my joy for having Na’im. It was the exact opposite, but it was also coupled with grief again. I thought, Remember what happened last time and what you lost? Look how amazing this is. You could have had it twice.⠀ .⠀ But the joy I felt when I was able to just focus on him being here was incredible. I still remember that feeling of trying to nurse. It was so hard, but I was like, I don’t even care. We’re going to work it out. You’re here. Oh my God, you pooped, yay! You’re alive! You don’t get to parent a child that’s died in the same way, but I was more confident in knowing that I parent Nazir through telling his story, and just being who I am as a mom and supporting other moms.⠀ .⠀ Nazir was a part of our family. More than anything, I think [he] shaped the kind of mother that I am. People always tell moms “Cherish every moment, and pay attention to the small things, because the moment you look up, they’re going to be taller than you…” Nobody ever has to tell me that. Even when I’m upset with Na’im and we’re fussing and things aren’t going the way I want, there’s a part of me that’s like, This is such a gift to me, to mother you and to have this experience and to have my house be a wreck right now. There’s always a small piece of me that says, Thank God. Thank you for being here, thank you for giving me this experience.⠀ .⠀ (Photo credit: J. Quazi King; 🔗 in bio for full story)⠀
Over time I realized that I wanted to be a mother to a living child so badly that I was willing to take the risk of this happening again. When the thought of not having another child was more terrifying to me than trying to get pregnant and potentially losing another pregnancy, I knew I was ready to try again. . When I got pregnant the second time in 2005, I became obsessed with reading medical literature [on] stillbirth and pregnancy. I did have some health problems when I went in for the induction. My blood pressure was dangerously high so I had preeclampsia, which can be fatal to both mom and baby. So they [thought it may have been] the preeclampsia [the first time I was pregnant]. . Sometimes I would get strong intuitive feelings about whether or not some of the things I was reading related to me. I came across something about blood clotting disorder, so I went to my midwife and I said, “I need you to test me.” In all the testing that I had after the stillbirth, that was the one thing that I hadn’t been tested for. And ding ding ding, it came up. I have a genetic mutation. One of my genes causes my blood to overclot. When you’re in pregnancy, your blood tends to clot more, but I have a gene that makes my blood clot even more, which prevents nutrients from getting to the baby. It’s also what predisposed me to not having proper blood flow, which led to the preeclampsia. . After that discovery I was co-managed between the midwife and a perinatologist. I was able to deliver Na’im safely, also with an induction, because with the monitoring it came up that at 37 weeks, my blood started looking pretty wonky again. . (Photo credit: J. Quazi King; 🔗 in bio to read the full story)
I had my baby shower when I was 34 weeks. [At] 37 weeks I started feeling strange for a few days. I had a midwife’s appointment, and I called and said, “I don’t feel right. Something feels weird.” I asked to come in earlier, and when I went in she couldn’t find the heartbeat. So she said, “I’m going to send you over to the hospital for a sonogram, maybe the baby just moved in a weird position.” I went there and they couldn’t find the heartbeat. I was 37 weeks, 2 days pregnant... They knew that he had died, so I had to give birth to him on that day, December 2, 2003. . [Nazir] was beautiful. He looked like a sleeping angel. He looked like a combination of me and my husband, and I remember his feet. I told my husband, “Thank God he got my feet.” We laugh-cried. Like, we’re so happy to see our baby, we love you, we’ve been waiting for you, and, Oh my God, open your eyes. How can this be reality? It was literally alternating between smiles and sobs. . Bittersweet doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s a very difficult thing that lives with you for the rest of your life. It’s the only kind of death where you experience life and then death inside of you. What you have is your hopes and your dreams and your sense of your child’s spirit. And so to have that go, and not have a chance to explore it... To have to give birth and have no baby, and to [be] postpartum... There are not any words for that. . (Photo credit: J. Quazi King; 🔗 in bio to read the full story)
October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, an event that brings awareness and build community for losses that are felt year round and for a lifetime.⠀ . We'll be spending the next two days sharing stories from women who spoke to us about their own experiences with pregnancy and infant loss.⠀ .⠀ Takiema Bunche-Smith is an educator based in Brooklyn, New York. When she found out she was pregnant in 2003, she and her husband David were overjoyed and immediately started preparing for baby Nazir’s arrival. But, she explains, that happiness turned to grief toward the end of her pregnancy.⠀ .⠀ Photo credit: J. Quazi King
Who’s watching tonight? 🙋🏿‍♀️ #blackish
Should we make Mondays #maternityshootmonday? Because I’m loving these photos captured by @hiaj (via @coolandbrown). . Tag us in your maternity shoots for a feature!
Meghan Markle is adding mom to her many titles: She and Prince Harry are expecting their #royalbaby in Spring 2019!
"Living here has afforded me opportunities I never thought I would get. I've been places, had experiences, and met people I never thought I could outside of watching The Travel Channel. And now I get to share that with my son." —Courtney Askins Wong on living in Seoul, South Korea with her husband and son . If you could move your family anywhere in the world, where would you go? . (Photo credit: Wooly & Jones Photography) . . . . . . . #matermea #blackwomen #blackmoms #blackmomsblog #blackmothers #blackmotherhood #mommyblog #blackmamas #blackblogger #blackmommyblogger #blackmommagic #blackwomenbloggers #blackmamasblog #blackmomskillingit #ig_motherhood #mochamoms #motherhoodrising #blackmomsabroad #blackexpat
Our series "Black Moms Abroad" tells the stories of women like Courtney Askins Wong who decide to raise their families abroad. Courtney, her husband Antonio, and first-born Kenzo lived in Seoul, South Korea for a time before moving back to the states. Today we're sharing some of our favorite answers from her profile (🔗 in bio) . What advice would you offer families looking to leave the states for another country? . Research where you’re going. Things like the cultural differences, the education system, and the culture’s view on Blacks. Parenthood in another country is like a one-armed sport. It makes parenting easier when you’ve done your research. For example, the hospitals [in Seoul] are closed on Sundays. . Also, try to have an open mind about the cultural differences. In Korea, old ladies rule everything. They always admire Kenzo when we’re out. They try to pick him up and make silly faces at him. It was a culture shock, but now I don’t really have a problem with people being in his face. Older women can be pushy. They think they know everything about parenting, and don’t hesitate to give you an unsolicited opinion. . My husband sometimes gets aggravated when people approach him, but I love the break I get when people are paying attention to Kenzo. It can be helpful when I’m tired. The birth rate here is low, so people really love babies! I’ve even had people give me money for having a cute baby [a Korean custom]. I’ve gotten a few dollars here and there, but one of my friends told me she got $10! . I love this journey. As frustrating and tiring as it can be, seeing Kenzo’s toothless smile makes it all worthwhile. . (Photo credit: Wooly & Jones Photography) . . . . . . . #matermea #blackwomen #blackmoms #blackmomsblog #blackmothers #blackmotherhood #mommyblog #blackmamas #blackblogger #blackmommyblogger #blackmommagic #blackwomenbloggers #blackmamasblog #blackmomskillingit #ig_motherhood #mochamoms #motherhoodrising #blackmomsabroad #blackexpat
Our series "Black Moms Abroad" tells the stories of women like Tamara Pizzoli (@TamaraPizzoli) who decide to raise their families abroad. Tamara is an educator, author, and mom of three Italian-American boys. Today we're sharing some of our favorite answers from her profile (🔗 in bio) . As an educator and a parent, what are your opinions of the school system in Rome? . I’m getting heart palpitations. I want to sing a Negro spiritual. Times is hard. It’s tough. I’ll admit that I can be pretty snobbish when it comes to what I expect from education, because I am an educator. When it comes to early childhood education, I know what it’s supposed to look like. I used to own a language school here in Rome, but that was more out of a necessity and a desire for my kids to have a proper foundation in English. . English in Rome is big business, and if you have enough money to start a school, you can start a school without necessarily being qualified to do so. . There are wonderful international schools that are going to run you, like, a Honda a year. And I’ve heard mixed things about public school. I used to have private students who were Italian and brilliant. I’m talking middle school kids who were going through the Italian public schools and these kids would have run circles around me academically when I was in high school. It’s a different approach, but they also have a really complicated system in which you have to kind of know your career path right after middle school. I don’t know what I’m going to do! I homeschool both of my kids even though they also go to school. . (Photo credit: Brock Brunson) . . . . . . #matermea #blackwomen #blackmoms #blackmomsblog #blackmothers #blackmotherhood #mommyblog #blackmamas #blackblogger #blackmommyblogger #blackmommagic #blackwomenbloggers #blackmamasblog #blackmomskillingit #ig_motherhood #mochamoms #motherhoodrising #blackmomsabroad #blackexpat
Our series "Black Moms Abroad" tells the stories of women like Tamara Pizzoli (@TamaraPizzoli) who decide to raise their families abroad. Tamara is an educator, author, and mom of 4: three Italian-American boys and a girl. Today we're sharing some of our favorite answers from her profile (🔗 in bio) . How does your family feel about you living so far away? . . My mom wasn’t very supportive when I first moved here. This is a woman who let her kid go to college at 16. But the prospect of me going across the Atlantic, she was just like, “No.” . Now she comes to visit and we’re eating ice cream and taking these long strolls at midnight with no sense of danger, and she’ll say, “I’m so happy you live here. I’m so happy you’re raising your Black sons here.” . I think if you’re raising African-American males, the narrative that’s given to them is often not always one that’s positive. That’s not something I worry about here. On the contrary, I worry that my children are so doted on. They get so much [positive] attention for how they look that often times I’ll tell them jokingly, “If you were in Brooklyn, nobody would care.” There, it’s completely normal to have curly hair and brown skin. . Would you like to be featured in this series? Tag yourself or another Black Mom Abroad. . . . . . . . . . . #matermea #blackwomen #blackmoms #blackmomsblog #blackmothers #blackmotherhood #mommyblog #blackmamas #blackblogger #blackmommyblogger #blackmommagic #blackwomenbloggers #blackmamasblog #blackmomskillingit #ig_motherhood #mochamoms #motherhoodrising #blackmomsabroad #blackexpat
Our series "Black Moms Abroad" tells the stories of women like Tamara Pizzoli (@TamaraPizzoli) who decide to raise their families abroad. Tamara is an educator, author, and mom of 4, three Italian-American boys and a girl. Today we're sharing some of our favorite answers from her profile (🔗 in bio) . How did you end up in Rome? . I was at the end of my doctoral studies. I’d been dating a guy who lived in Ghana for about five years, and I was really expecting to marry him. I was on my way to visit [him], and found out during a layover that he’d been cheating on me for a majority of the relationship. I didn’t get on the flight, and I stayed in New York. . A friend I was visiting had a little sister who would go back and forth to Italy a lot. She asked me if I wanted to have an adventure and move with her the next time she went. I finished up my doctorate in August of 2007 and moved to Rome—sight unseen—in September. I had my whole life planned out: I was just going get a job as a professor, wear scarves to work, and get coffee. But it didn’t work out that way! . I moved in September 2007 with a broken heart, met my now ex-husband in November, fell in love and married him in May. I never really intended to stay. But now, I’ve curated a life that truly reflects who I am as a person, and I don’t know if I would have been able to do it as easily in the States. . (Photo credit: James Maiki) . . . . . . . #matermea #blackwomen #blackmoms #blackmomsblog #blackmothers #blackmotherhood #mommyblog #blackmamas #blackblogger #blackmommyblogger #blackmommagic #blackwomenbloggers #blackmamasblog #blackmomskillingit #ig_motherhood #mochamoms #motherhoodrising #blackmomsabroad #blackexpat
Today, I did something I'd been putting off for days, and after I was done, I played "Graduation" by Trinidad James—the song that goes, "Pat yourself on the back / You just did that!" Because you have to celebrate your wins, big and small. . So let's take a minute to pat ourselves on the back—whether it's being in business for four years (we see you, @mommyceo and @thestorkbag! congratulations!) or making a bomb meal for your family (@simplytrudy.m—can you make me that cajun shrimp dish?!), we want to hear about it!
We're always looking for takeover moms to give us a peek into their lives or share their knowledge about a topic they're passionate about. Past takeover mom Monet Hambrick of @thetravelingchild talked about how her family of four is able to afford to travel the world, and shared ways to make traveling with kids easier. . Would you like to be a takeover mom? Or do you have someone you'd like to see on our page? Tag away in the comments!
For three months I struggled through the fog of postpartum depression as best as I could. I hated being a mother. Guests made me anxious. I told my girlfriends not to have children. I had dark, dark thoughts about my child. I was in a never-ending tunnel. . But every now and then, at my most manic or anxious moments, a quiet thought would break through the fog. A quiet ray of sun telling me to relax. To surrender. To let go of my expectations. . I distinctly remember holding my baby on her first flight when this epiphany really hit home. I was terrified that she would scream through the flight. My stomach was in knots and I was nearly in tears. I turned to my husband and said, “I think if I just stay calm, if I stay relaxed, if I just hold her, she’ll be calm too.” . And it worked. I haven’t looked back since. I had to learn how to let scary thoughts move through my mind and out of my body. To breathe through anxiety. Motherhood is certainly the most difficult phase of my life, but learning how to forgive myself for those early months is a close second. — Michelle Lugalia-Hollon (@lugalia) You can read her story by clicking the link in the bio.
Today, on International Day of the Girl, we’re sharing some of our favorite women’s reflections on their daughters: . Abadai, my oldest, [once] did a lyrical dance to a Rihanna song, but I never saw her practice. I thought, “Whatever happens, happens; it’s not Star Search.”. . She picked out her little cut-off shorts and sparkly shirt, and blew us away. The way I grew up, my mother would have been like, “No. That’s inappropriate,” but she wasn’t exposing anything. I need to be able to have happy daughters. They’re little brown girls; I won’t do anything to crush their spirits because the world will do that for them. So, if they want to dance to Rihanna? Sure. —author @ibizoboi (Photo credit: @papermonday)

About

mater mea is a website that tells the stories of women at the intersection of motherhood and career. Launched in 2012, the site offers a more realistic depiction of black women in the many spaces they occupy: as mothers, daughters, employees and employers, lovers, and friends.  Learn more...