As a Black father sitting in countless doctors’ offices alongside my partner, I often found myself invisible — treated like a visitor instead of a vital part of the care team. I watched professionals speak over me, around me, but rarely to me. Even with doulas and midwives present, their focus centered almost entirely on my partner’s pregnancy journey. Despite being her biggest advocate, I was often left unacknowledged and underdeveloped. No one was teaching me how to navigate hospital systems confidently, advocate for her safety, or care for her body and spirit during and after birth.
The truth is there’s a moment after every birth that no one really prepares fathers for. The visitors leave, the food trays are gone, the baby’s cries echo through the house and then … it’s quiet. That’s the aftermath: the stretch of time when families either find their rhythm or fall apart. That “after” has traditionally been seen as a woman’s world, but I’ve learned — both as a father and as a “Dad Doula” — that when men are invited in early, when they’re part of the pregnancy and healing, the whole family flourishes. Believe it or not, it’s an idea gaining traction at the highest levels of government.
U.S. Reps. Eugene Vindman (D-Va.) and Juan Ciscomani (R-Ariz.) recently introduced the Dads Matter Act of 2025, a bipartisan, bicameral bill aimed at supporting healthier families by increasing fathers’ involvement in their babies’ lives immediately before and after birth. It calls on the Department of Health and Human Services to launch a national public awareness campaign and provide guidance to states and maternity care providers nationwide about the role of fathers during pregnancy, birth and the postpartum period.
The government shutdown has ended. Now is the time to speak up. If you believe fathers deserve a seat at the table during pregnancy, birth and postpartum care, then call or email your members of Congress and urge them to support the Dads Matter Act of 2025. It is quite literally a matter of life and death.
We talk a lot about maternal health, and we should. The U.S. has the highest maternal death rate in the world, with Black women being most at risk. However, when we talk about birth, the conversation too often leaves fathers on the sidelines — cheering, nervous, unsure, waiting for instructions and serving as audiences in the production of the birth story.
But, men are valuable members of the cast. Research has shown that when men attend prenatal visits, learn postpartum warning signs, and share caregiving duties, their partners are less likely to experience postpartum depression, and their babies are more likely to thrive. This is why I started the Dad Doula program. We strive to provide safe spaces where partners learn to use their voices, presence and access to counteract the devastating rates of Black maternal mortality in this country. This work dismantles the myth that fatherhood begins after birth and emphasizes that it starts right alongside it. When I coach fathers through the Dad Doula framework, I tell them, “You are not a bystander, you are a stabilizer. Your calm helps to steady the room. Your touch can ease her breathing. Your voice can call the nurse, or remind her she’s strong enough to do this.”
Presence changes the outcome. I’ve seen it in my own practice. In rooms where men are engaged, I have watched atmospheres and perspectives shift; I’ve heard more laughter, seen less fear, and watched two individuals become one team. By educating and empowering those who stand beside the birthing person, Dad Doula turns what was once isolation into action, helping families thrive, together.
This is the work and path ahead. Groups like the Ariah Foundation and Save a Rose Foundation, both in New York, and 4Kira4Moms in Atlanta, Ga., champion bringing our Black moms and babies back home alive, happy, healthy and heard.
The aftermath doesn’t have to be the “aftermath.” That word usually carries a sense of tragedy like a storm, a mess to clean up. But what if we redefined it? What if the aftermath of birth meant a time of after-care, after-healing, after-love? A moment in time when Black fathers are allowed to lead with advocating for the one thing we know the most about: our families.
This article was originally published by Amsterdam News.