It’s become somewhat of an unspoken rule in the Black community that it’s almost a must to get braids on two occasions: in preparation for travel and ahead of the arrival of a baby.
In both situations, routines are dismissed and there’s the possibility of chaos while venturing into the unknown.
Yet, while I knew I was supposed to get my hair braided at the 36-week mark of pregnancy, as an inexperienced mother, I didn’t quite grasp how instrumental it was to have those braids in my arsenal for postpartum support.
It was soon clear why braids were just as much a part of nesting in the Black birthing experience as cleaning and organizing. While nesting refers to the natural instinct to get the home ready for a baby's arrival, hair braiding was my way of preparing myself for the reality that my husband and I would likely be entering parenthood with little societal support.
Though I was fortunate enough to have a mother who spent the first few nights at home with my husband and me when our baby was born, we lacked paid parental leave, a doula and a means for covering the balance of my child’s complicated delivery.
My box braids provided something I was afraid to say I needed: confidence to weather all the unknowns of the postpartum period amid my growing fear that I couldn’t do it all. And the reassurance that, much like my hair, I could hold it together for my babies.
What role do braids play in self-care for Black parents?
Research shows that Black women are more at risk for developing postpartum depression and related conditions, yet less likely to receive treatment. A number of factors may play a role, including lack of health insurance, racism and implicit bias in the medical community, as well as less support so Black mothers can take time for themselves away from their babies.
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The stigma of the "strong Black woman" [1] having to suppress emotions and hide vulnerabilities may also have an impact.
These sometimes bleak realities of Black motherhood can manifest themselves as physical and mental health challenges, says Karen Sheffield-Abdullah, Ph.D., an assistant professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill School of Nursing.
Black women do need help. But their shared, learned experience stems from watching their mothers, aunts and grandmothers do everything themselves, she says.
Their legacy of seeing help neither received nor accepted is a tough one to break, so they ask to get their hair braided. The practice of using braids as a means of self-care is nothing new. Hair care has long been a birthing ritual that has found its way back to various tribes throughout African history, says Afiya Mbilishaka, Ph.D, a clinical therapist and founder of PhyscoHairapy.
In some tribes, braiding is believed to transmit energy to the woman through her hair as she journeys into marriage and motherhood, Dr. Mbilishaka explains. And during slavery, historians believe that braids were used to relay messages to aid in escape.
Today, for moms like me, cornrows and box braids can be nostalgic of the many hours spent sitting on the floor between my mother’s legs with a spray bottle, that notorious Pink lotion and a wide-tooth comb, all used to create a braided masterpiece.
This routine always provided a sense of calm. Now, the repetitive nature of hair braiding can offer some reassurance while navigating motherhood as a Black woman.
And for good reason. Research suggests [2] that body appreciation and satisfaction with one's appearance may bolster a person’s well-being.
Braided styles don’t only result in increased confidence: They’re also a nod to a cultural history of triumph and perseverance — things mothers lean on and find solace in while preparing for the changes brought about by motherhood.
“Braids can offer a sense of security to moms,” says Dr. Mbilishaka. “The protective style of braids reduces the need for excessive worry about keeping everything together.”
While it does alleviate some of that burden, fighting to remain mentally secure is exactly what Black mothers do when putting on the armor that comes with being the “strong Black woman.”
They’re trying to do it all with little to no support system and little community — a few of the many factors that may contribute to perinatal mood and anxiety disorders in BIPOC mothers. For Black moms like me, low-maintenance, durable braids are something we can lean on.
Why are Black moms relying on hair care before asking for help?
Microaggressions, lack of resources and lack of culturally competent care can all contribute to the anxiety many Black moms experience during the perinatal period. All those factors may also prevent them from seeking help, says Sheffield-Abdullah.
While braids obviously won’t fix everything, they do offer a sense of security and familiarity that medical offices and mental health professionals still have yet to master in the quest for culturally competent care, according to Sheffield-Abdullah.
When Tonya Abari, an author residing in Nashville, Tennessee, was expecting her second daughter, she made sure everyone’s needs were met before her own. That included twisting her own hair a few days before delivering her now 6-month-old daughter.
Abari knew from the lack of help received with her first daughter that her hair would be one less thing to worry about as she and her husband managed the demands of parenthood alone.
“We compartmentalized all of our tasks,” she says. “There was so much to do and not much time, so pouring into hair is a way to free up time so I can take care of other things.”
She was also mindful that keeping her hair neatly styled meant she might be more likely to receive attentive care throughout the birthing and postpartum process.
“It wasn’t the main reason why I did my hair, but it did cross my mind while I was at the hospital,” she said. “It sounds ridiculous, but I didn’t know if my hair was gonna be a concerning factor for the level of care I got or not.”
Abari now realizes that styling her hair was a coping mechanism she used to mask a cry for help when she had no support. It became an essential part of her fatigue management strategy, as well as a way to boost her confidence.
But physical enhancements are just on the surface. Throughout her research, Sheffield-Abdullah found that pregnant Black women nearing childbirth prefer that their health care providers ask about their emotional well-being only if they offer accessible resources.
Insurance barriers, financial barriers, child care issues and the threat of child protective services all contribute to the additional worries Black mothers have when asking for help — making them question whether it’s worth asking.
“It’s traumatic to ask for help and be told no,” says Abari. “And that’s why hair care becomes a necessity in the Black birthing experience."
When Abari finally did deliver her new baby, it quickly became apparent that braids weren’t enough to get her and her family through what would come next.
“I felt myself falling into a deep sadness, yet I barely moved because I was so focused on pumping milk,” she recalls. “I was sitting for hours just nursing and pumping milk alone. I didn’t realize my health was deteriorating.”
She developed postpartum depression and then required emergency surgery for blood clots resulting from her immobility. Suddenly, with a looming surgery, and her husband at home taking care of a 7-year-old and their newborn, it became clear that the family needed to seek outside support.
Studies have shown [4] that a lack of social support has been identified as a possible risk factor for postpartum depression.
Abari believes that if her care team had been more attentive to her needs and she received more community support, her traumatic experience could have been avoided and braids likely wouldn’t have been as necessary as they were for her.
What support Black moms need most
Partnerships with patients and their communities are often missing when it comes to meeting the needs of Black moms, says Heather Irobunda, M.D., an OB/GYN practicing at New York City Health and Hospitals.
“Assessing available resources of these patients and understanding what is available to them and creating treatment or care plans that incorporate these nuances will make a world of difference," she says.
Parent-friendly employment after delivery, housing, affordable child care and financial assistance are among the most requested resources, says Jaye Wilson, founder and CEO of the community support group and resource center Melinated Moms.
Additionally, Black parents want to feel validated, celebrated and heard. It’s why hair care has routinely become a way for Black parents to help alleviate stress yet treat themselves, says Wilson.
“It’s a moment of self care that helps moms feel like themselves for two months [during] a time in their lives when they lose themselves and feel alone,” she says.
Some research shows that Black people are more likely to experience loneliness [3] in comparison to other groups.
“Our lived experience can be so isolating,” says Sheffield-Abdullah.
Where and how can Black Moms find the support and community they need?
Feeding the soul through hair could also be a good time for mothers to reflect on their insecurities and the areas in which they might need more support. Depending on the style – whether box braids, crochet braids, twists or cornrows – the hair braiding process can take anywhere from two to 10 hours.
That’s many hours of feeding the soul through hair, and time that parents-to-be can take to reflect on their needs, wants and how they envision motherhood could look.
Through her advocacy and work with Melinated Moms, Wilson helps birthing parents determine what they need and how to ask for it. She advises they break down needs into categories, such as physical needs, mental needs, social needs and financial needs.
Rather than looking at everything as one big issue and slapping braids over it as a Band-Aid, they can use open-ended questions to identify whether nutrition information, new coping skills or even a chat with trusted friends can help, says Wilson.
Some sources of community support and resources in which Black moms can feel seen, heard and less alone include the following:
- Centering Healthcare Institute
- Black Mamas Matter
- Melanin And Mental Health
- Shades of Blue Project
- Postpartum support international
- Sista Midwife Productions
During her medical emergency following birth, Abari found herself reflecting on those who had proven reliable in the past in figuring out who to turn to for help.
She was surprised to find people she never expected come to her rescue: the homeschool community (which donated gift cards), neighbors (who sent meals), and an online writing community (who raised money for her via a GoFundMe). It was then that Abari realized she had more than braids for support.
“It was heavy but enlightening,” she said. "The help you need is out there. You just need to be open to it. You never know where it will come from.”
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