The Politics of Pain: Why Women’s Suffering Is Dismissed in Healthcare.

We hear it all the time—how Black women are mistreated in the healthcare system. The statistics don’t lie: our maternal mortality rates are significantly higher than any other group. And knowing that, I promised myself that when I got pregnant, I would choose a doctor who looked just like me. I believed a Black OBGYN would understand me better. I thought she would listen.

I was wrong.

Choosing her was one of the biggest mistakes of my pregnancy journey. I won’t go into every painful detail right now, but I’ll say this: Always trust your instincts. Speak up. And NEVER go to the hospital alone. Bring someone who can advocate for you—someone who won’t back down when things go left.

I remember being told I was going to be discharged from the hospital because my unborn baby’s heart rate had stabilized—after being unstable for almost 24 hours due to Hyperemesis Gravidarum. I was scared. I told my doctor plainly, “I’m afraid to go home because I’m still vomiting and her heart rate could spike again.”

Her response?

“I know you want to have this baby, but we’re trying to keep her in there a little longer so she can develop.”

I was 37 weeks pregnant.

I got up, preparing to leave… but then my nurse—bless her—took one last look before I walked out. She noticed my daughter’s heart rate had climbed again. That nurse advocated for me. She challenged the decision. She helped push for an immediate induction that possibly saved my baby’s life. trust me this story doesn't end here.

That moment shook me.

For far too long, women’s pain—especially Black women’s pain—has been dismissed, misdiagnosed, or ignored. Whether it's severe cramps, dangerous pregnancy complications like HG, or mysterious chronic conditions, the pattern is the same: we’re not being believed.

And it’s not just individual bias—it’s a systemic failure. The medical system wasn’t built to hear voices like mine. And when we do speak up, we’re labeled as “dramatic,” “difficult,” or “too emotional.”

From Bed to Birth (FBTB) was born from that silence.

From being told “it’s just morning sickness” when I was literally wasting away.

From realizing how easily women—especially Black women—are dismissed when we don’t fit neatly into a textbook.

This is a call to listen.

Really listen.

To center women’s pain. To validate our experiences. To demand a system that sees us and fights for us.

Let’s change the narrative. Let’s give pain the dignity it deserves.

Because we matter.

Our babies matter.

Our stories matter.

💬 Drop a comment if you’ve ever felt dismissed or unheard in a medical setting. You are not alone.