The Speaking Part

I talk about maternal mortality publicly – panels, podcasts, anywhere someone hands me a microphone. My goal isn’t comfort. It’s memory.

I use sarcasm, dark humor, and say things that make audiences shift uncomfortably. You might forget the exact numbers, but you won’t forget how it felt to hear them.

I’m a nurse-midwife with a PhD who refuses to let dead women stay quietly dead.

I catch babies. I support families. And when I lost a colleague, then a patient – two preventable deaths – I started taking names.

Our house is filled with pictures of ancestors because forgetting people isn’t an option. That same energy now goes toward making sure women dying from pregnancy complications don’t vanish into medical records nobody reads.

Why This Work

I’ve been called to remember people my whole life. Now it’s these women. This is remembrance as resistance – making sure they get more than a line in a medical record.

If my delivery makes you squirm? Good. Dead women should make you uncomfortable. The fact that women in 2025 are dying from the same things that women in 1825 were dying from should horrify you.

Nameless statistics won’t remember them. But we will.