Honoring the Tradition of the Communal Black Breastfeeding Journey

Written by Guest Blogger, Maia Kiner

There’s moments that my doula partner and I often see in our birth and postpartum work. A new parent sitting in the hospital bed, amazed as their infant performs the newborn crawl towards the breast as they attempt to self latch. We also see that same parent in the wee hours of the morning, sitting in the dim of a night light, shoulders rounded with exhaustion, trying to guide their infant towards a latch that just feels out of reach. 

The breastfeeding journey often begins and can end in moments like these. For my doula partner and I, these moments have shown us how families can thrive and where the gaps in continuity of care still live. 

We’ve seen the effects of an uncoordinated care team that provided conflicting information on what is the best way to feed their infant. We’ve seen families be discharged without proper follow up feeding care.  We’ve seen the loneliness and challenges during those 3 am feeds that create questions on whether or not this breastfeeding journey is worth it. We’ve supported parents who were trying so hard to trust their body, yet felt feeding their infant from there was impossible and depleting.

Witnessing these things helped us both realize that the breastfeeding journey deserved the same support that birth and postpartum journeys received from us.The breastfeeding journey needed to be communal and had been practiced that way for centuries. Yet, somehow we had gotten away from that. 

Long before lactation consultants had titles and credentials, granny and lay midwives taught latch by feel with skills passed down through generations of apprenticeship. Aunties, sisters, grandmothers, and matriarchal figures alike passed down feeding positions, stories and herbal remedies. Neighbors dropped off food so the lactating parent could be nourished giving them the nutrients they needed to replenish what was given away. 

These traditions were acts of survival and of deep love. Breastfeeding was never a solo act, but was shared, witnessed, and supported. Research today even shows that parents who have consistent lactation support, breastfeed for longer and more exclusively.1 Our traditions knew before the numbers could be interpreted: support changes outcomes. 

As we celebrate both National Breastfeeding Month and Black Breastfeeding Week, their themes centering interdependence, resilience, community care, and collective power serve as a reminder. Collective care is how breastfeeding survives, thrives, and remains joyful. 

So here are our gentle reminders for you all: Support can show up in many forms. It could be a  partner taking breastfeeding classes and assisting with latches, cousins washing pump parts, friends folding laundry while parents nurse, neighbors ensuring that their nutrients are never depleted, grandmothers sharing their journeys and wisdom, doulas providing a calming reassurance and education, workplaces and governmental systems creating paid parental leave policies, or lactation consultants stepping in to fill the gaps left by our hospital systems. 

Be visible. Be open. Share your story. Show up. This is how you plant the seeds that fuel the quiet power of community. 

Maia Kiner has her MPH with a Concentration in Maternal and Child Health. Maia is a Certified Labor Doula and an IBCLC Candidate. She is a valued longtime member of the Doulas of Raleigh Team.