I Watched The Ebony Canal, and As a Black Doula, I Left More Committed Than Ever

I didn’t expect it to hit so hard.

I knew what The Ebony Canal was about before I sat down to watch. I’ve seen the stats. I’ve heard the stories from clients. I’ve read the CDC reports that say Black women are three times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women (CDC, 2024). I live this reality in my work every day.

But even with all that in my head, watching it still left a weight on my chest.

Because this documentary didn’t just show the numbers. It showed the fear. The kind Black moms carry before they even feel their first contraction. The kind that makes you pack more than a hospital bag, you pack up your voice, your defenses, your strategy just to survive the system.

It’s heartbreaking. And real.

Black Women Walk Into Birth Already Bracing Themselves

That’s what stayed with me most after watching The Ebony Canal. Not just the tragic outcomes or the grief, though that’s there, too, but the emotional preparation Black women feel they need just to give birth.

It’s that quiet internal dialogue:

Don’t raise your voice.

Make sure someone is with you.

Will they take me seriously if I say something feels off?

The film showed four brave Black women sharing their pregnancy journeys, and while each story was unique, that thread of anxiety was constant. Not because something’s wrong with us, but because the system keeps failing us.

It’s not just about individual providers. It’s about a system built without us in mind. A system where implicit bias, historical trauma, and neglect still shape outcomes.

Doulas Aren’t the Fix, But We’re Part of the Solution

Watching the film reminded me of why I became a doula. Why I chose to be in those rooms. Why I sit at bedsides and help families feel grounded when the world around them starts spinning.

Because doulas can’t undo systemic racism. We can’t fix the gaps in the medical system on our own. But we can make sure Black birthing people don’t go through it alone.

We ask the questions that might get skipped.

We notice the subtle changes.

We hold space when no one else does.

We advocate, not just in emergencies, but in the day-to-day moments that protect dignity.

When a Black mom has a birth and postpartum doula by her side, someone who sees her, hears her and doesn’t question her instincts, she isn’t just another patient in the system. She’s a person. With a story. With a right to feel safe.

And that kind of care makes a difference.

This Work Is Heavy. But It’s Sacred.

After the film ended, I just sat there. No words. Just tears. Just stillness.

Because this work isn’t just about comfort measures or hospital bags. It’s about life and loss. It’s about standing in the fire with someone and saying, “You are not invisible here.”

Every birth I attend, every mother I support, every father I talk with, every moment I witness, it matters.

We can’t wait for the system to change before we protect each other. We have to do both, push for reform while standing in the gap.

And that’s what doulas do.

If You're a Black Mom in Boston or Massachusetts, You Don’t Have to Do This Alone

At Haven Place Doulas, we show up for you, not just as birth and postpartum doulas, but as people who get it. People who understand that “standard care” doesn’t always feel safe for everyone.

Whether you’re preparing for birth, healing from a past experience, or just trying to figure out what support looks like for you, we’re here.

You don’t need to prove yourself. You don’t need to tough it out. You need to feel held. And we’ve got you.

If you're in Boston or anywhere across Massachusetts and want a black doula who sees the whole you, not just the birth plan, reach out.

You deserve safety. You deserve support. You deserve care that reflects your truth.

Let’s change the story together.