By Shiauna Ledbetter
In January 2025, I signed up to join the Birth Companions—a program where nursing students at Johns Hopkins train as doulas and offer services free of cost to people having babies in the greater Baltimore area. But I had no idea what it would feel like to stand in the room as a human being takes their first breath.
My classmate Nathalie and I had just finished our doula training and figured the best way to learn was to jump in headfirst—no overthinking, just show up. We met the mom a couple of days before her due date, and in no time, we went from total strangers to teammates.
The first birth I attended was intense, beautiful and chaotic—in the best way possible. We truly were learning in real time, trying everything we’d read about, everything we practiced. We offered lavender oil for her nausea—she loved that. Tried our first real-life double hip squeeze—she did not love that. So we adjusted. We all figured it out as we went.
Before we knew it, the midwife said, “The baby’s crowning—mom, if you want pictures, now’s the time.”
The father handed me the camera and as I captured images of this beautiful moment, I became overwhelmed with emotion. Tears streamed down my face—I couldn’t stop them. I could hardly see what I was taking pictures of. I didn’t even fully understand why I was crying, I just knew something in me had shifted. That moment showed me the power of simply being there—present. And I realized: I want to do this. I want to be in this space, for real.
After I got back to my apartment, I wrote in my journal, trying to process it all. That day, something clicked. I saw how deep the impact of support can be—how sacred birth is, and how much it matters to be seen and held throughout this time.
What’s wild is, the more I lean into this world, the more I realize it’s always been part of me. My grandmother is a midwife. I grew up watching her serve people with so much love and strength. So much passion. She’s not delivering babies anymore, but she’s still in it—helping rebuild a birth center in Asheville, North Carolina, doing birth-inspired art, always encouraging me. She’s mailed me books about midwifery, nudged me to think about the bigger picture. She’s always emphasized the importance of representation in this field, especially for Black women.
Doulas and the Black maternal health crisis
As I’ve gone deeper into doula work and my childbearing courses—I’ve also had to confront harsh truths, especially about Black maternal health. Black women in Maryland had a maternal mortality rate of 49.5 deaths per 100,000 live births, compared to 25.5 per 100,000 for white women. Nationwide, they are 1.5 times more likely to experience a preterm birth and 2.5 times more likely to have their infant die in the first year of life. These stats are consistent across income, education and socioeconomic level; they result from systemic racism and bias.
That’s why doulas matter. We’re not medical staff—we’re there for the birthing person. We work hard to know the birthing parent’s story, their fears, and their goals. We advocate on behalf of the birthing parent to keep their birth safe and special. Medical providers often meet patients for the first time during labor. Doulas have already built that trust—and that kind of connection changes everything.
And I want families—especially Black families—to know this kind of support exists. The Birth Companions program is a free doula service run by the Johns Hopkins School of Nursing in Baltimore. Under the leadership of doctorally-prepared nurse faculty, we are dedicated doulas who offer prenatal visits, labor support and postpartum check-ins.
If you’re pregnant in Baltimore and think you could benefit from extra support—which, honestly, most of us can—we’re here for you. You deserve to feel safe. You deserve to have a voice that is heard. And you deserve to be surrounded by people who care.