Reclaiming Our Fertility

A Juneteenth Reflection

Two weeks into the launch of Oshun Griot, and on this Juneteenth, I want to share something that’s been on my heart: why people of color and especially Black women need to think about #ReclaimingOurFertility. Because for far too long our fertility, our choices, our bodies and babies have not been our own—and now it's time for us to take that power back, to define the families we want or don't want, how we see fit.

In the 1930s, as part of the WPA Slave Narratives, a woman named Mary Brown from Clarendon, Arkansas told a story about her grandmother, one that still echoes today

When grandma was a young woman, she didn't have no children, so her master thought sure she was barren. He sold her to the Taylors. Here come 'long eleven children. Taylor sold them. After freedom she had another. He was her onliest boy. That was so funny to hear her tell it. I never could forget it long as I ever know a thing. — Federal Writers' Project, Arkansas Narratives, Vol. 2, Part 1

Her body was deemed worthless. She was sold. Then she brought life into the world—again and again. Even after her children were torn away. Even after freedom came. Even after the world told her she could not.

This isn't just a story about resilience. It's a story about how Black women's reproductive futures have been controlled, sold, and stolen. But it's also a story about reclamation, resillience and taking charge. Because even under the harshest conditions, Mary's grandmother found ways to exercise agency over her own fertility. She held on to herself and made choices about when and how to bring life into the world, even when the system tried to control every aspect of her body.

For centuries, Black women's bodies and babies have not been our own. We were valued only when we could produce children for others, dismissed as worthless when we couldn't, and had our children torn from our arms when we did. But through it all, Black women have fought for autonomy over our own bodies, in ways big and small, seen and unseen.

At Oshun Griot, when we say #ReclaimingOurFertility, we mean reclaiming our bodies, our timelines, our choices—and our power to define what fertility means for us. As we move deeper into World Infertility Awareness Month, remembering that 1 in 6 people experience infertility, we hold space for all families who don't have the freedom to create the families they want.

Why Reproductive Health and Freedom Are Connected

For too long, Black women haven't had the ability to choose, to truly choose, when it comes to their reproductive lives. The connection between freedom and fertility runs deeper than policy; it's personal, it's generational, and it's about reclaiming autonomy over our own bodies.

For most of my life, my fertility has felt like a trap. I've been chained to the bed suffering with cramps, found myself in hospital rooms when I didn't want to take the pills that were supposed to help, and spent countless hours recovering from multiple surgeries. While all of this ultimately helped me give birth to my babies, it was hard. It didn't always feel like freedom.

But here's what I know now: The ability to choose—or NOT choose—to give life is incredible. Being able to bring a life into this world, helping to create legacy, is freedom. It's an honor and a privilege. But it should always be a choice that we all have access to and control over.

The Reality We Face

Far too few women, especially Black women, have had true control over their bodies throughout history. Even today, when some of us do have more options, we don't always have real freedom to make choices that are best for us. Our decisions can still be constrained by economic pressures, political barriers, and systemic inequities—which means our choices aren't truly free.

So this Juneteenth, during World Infertility Awareness Month, I want to recognize that for Black folks fertility choices DO mean freedom. Fertility is freedom.

We're celebrating that truth at Oshun Griot as we continue our launch month, and we hope you'll continue this journey with us.

A Moment of Black Joy

Now for some Black joy to close us out: My son George turned three!

After years of IVF and all the fertility challenges I mentioned above, June 15th, 2022 is a day I will never forget. Parenting is a lot, especially with a three-year-old, but hearing his laugh, getting surprise kisses, or hearing him say "It's okay, mama" reminds me that whatever life brings, it really will be okay.

So on this Juneteenth, I hope we all recognize that particularly in this political climate, fertility isn't free for everyone. Black bodies and people of color are still under assault. IVF—despite the rhetoric—and our reproductive freedoms are being challenged. Roe has been repealed. The promise of accessible fertility care remains just that: a promise.

But know this: despite all of this, there will be better days.

I hope you rest. I hope you reclaim your peace. And especially for my Black mamas and papas to be—our people have fought for freedom, have fought for OUR freedom, and we will once again reclaim it.

For now, let's celebrate the freedoms we have, mourn the freedoms we've lost, fight for the freedoms we need, and relish in the quiet moments—the laughter of children, the joy of resilience, the power of love, and the small pockets of peace we can create for ourselves.

This is what #ReclaimingOurFertility means to me—taking back our power to define our own reproductive futures, just like Mary Brown's grandmother did all those years ago.

How You Can Help

As we continue building this community together, here's how you can support the Oshun Griot mission:

Download the app: Get Oshun Griot on the App Store or Google Play and leave us a review—it really helps other people find us.

Share your voice: Fill out our feedback form. This is incredibly helpful as we move forward because we want to create content and resources that meet what people actually need and want.

Spread the word: Sign up for this newsletter if you haven't already, or pass it along to someone who might need it.

Your support means everything as we work to make fertility conversations more accessible and honest.

Happy Juneteenth!

Reniqua

Reniqua Allen-Lamphere
Founder, Oshun Griot

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