Building Black Birth Workers

Jun 11, 2020

Meet Ashanti from She's a badass mama of five, business owner, non-profit executive director, doula and placenta encapsulation specialist. She is a fan of MTRNL, and told me that our classes contributed to her successful vbac. I dare you to try and NOT be inspired after this conversation.

{updated 6/11/20}

Please join me in celebrating the work our beloved MTRNL sister, Ashanti, does for mothers of color. She recently received a grant for $7500 (!!) to implement the doula program she has designed for the women who need it most. 

{she needs more money to serve more mamas and babies! she has the doulas ready to serve, but needs $$ to pay them for their work! PLEASE DONATE HERE!}

Did you know that Black mothers are 2.5x more likely to die of childbirth complications than other women? [reference]

Did you know that Black women are drenched in stigma around breast-feeding and not receiving the post-partum care that many of us take for granted? [reference]

I created MTRNL because I believe that the future of humanity depends on the health and happiness of mothers. Serve the Mothers: Save the World. 

YOUR health and happiness matters. Regardless of your color. Because the world needs you now more than ever. And Black mothers need us now more than ever. 

Because the hand that rocks the cradle holds the fate of humanity in Her hands...

Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow—
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky—
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

The Hand That Rocks the Cradle  (1865) 
by William Ross Wallace


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