My sister had health insurance; she should have been warned by her doctors that she was at risk. But she was a minority. The doctors took little interest in her as an individual, and she fell through the cracks. And died.
My first experience of having a baby was about as natural as birth can be, and though I didn't know it at the time, it set my feet on a path that eventually led me to become a childbirth author and a midwife.
The number of maternal deaths is significantly understated because of a lack of effective data collection both in the US and around the world.
Pregnant women who are at risk for suffering complications and even death are in the prime of their lives. The most affected populations are minorities, Native Americans, immigrants, and women living in poverty and who speak little or no English.
As a midwife, I am immersed in Oxytocin day and night.
There is a largely-ignored healthcare calamity in the United States that sees between two and three women die every day during pregnancy and childbirth.
My sister and the baby she was carrying died in the United States of America. They died in the country that spends more money on pregnancy and birth technology than any other country in this world.
I had amazing midwives when I first became a teen-aged mom, and each of the five times I gave birth.