Rooted in Love

May is here, and with it comes a powerful call to pause, honor, and uplift the sacred journey of motherhood—in all its beauty and heartbreak. From Maternal Mental Health Awareness Month to Haitian Cultural Day and inspiring speaking engagements, this month is rich with connection, community, and healing.

We’ve got powerful reflections, exciting events, and wellness gems curated just for you. Let’s get into it…

WHAT’S NEW IN COOCHIEVILLE?

🌸 May is Maternal Mental Health Awareness Month
Let’s raise awareness and honor the mental and emotional wellbeing of all black women.

🍼 Postpartum Awareness Week: May 4–10
Join us in shedding light on the real, raw, and resilient postpartum experience.

🎤 Catch Me Speaking: May 17, 2025
I will be speaking candidly about relationships and sexual wellness.
👉 Click here to register — you don’t want to miss it!

🇭🇹 Haitian Cultural Day: May 10
Come celebrate culture, tradition, and community with me!

💐 Mother’s Day Breakfast at The Soft Space by Mama Glow
May 1st, I went to the Loft Soft Space in Brooklyn for an intimate conversations with doctors, midwives and doulas to discuss best practices for the partnership of a woman’s maternal care team. It was hosted by Mama Glow and sponsored by G.E.H.A.

THE SPIRIT OF ANNIE: A POSTPARTUM STORY ROOTED IN LOSS, LOVE & HOODOO

When the world watched Sinners, directed by Ryan Coogler, we were introduced to the twin lives of Smoke and Stack—both played masterfully by Michael B. Jordan. But for many of us, it was Annie, portrayed with haunting tenderness by Wunmi Mosaku, who became the quiet center of ancestral gravity in the film.

Annie wasn’t just Smoke’s love interest or the grieving mother of a baby gone too soon. She was Mississippi’s root worker. The midwife. The herbalist. The town’s spiritual whisperer. Yet, behind the strength of her tradition and the herbs she mixed in clay bowls, was a woman hollowed by postpartum grief.

The Grief No One Talks About
In Annie, we see what many Black women endure in silence: postpartum devastation amplified by racial neglect, spiritual isolation, and maternal dismissal. Her baby died in infancy—an experience that continues to disproportionately affect Black women in America. But Annie didn’t just lose a child. She lost the possibility of motherhood as she had imagined it. She lost the family she tried to root with Smoke, who couldn’t stay grounded in the soil of that grief. He left. And Annie was left holding not just sorrow, but the town’s spiritual needs.

Postpartum in the Hands of the Ancestors
Unlike many depictions of postpartum depression that rely solely on clinical frameworks, Annie’s journey reminds us that our ancestors had their own medicine. Hoodoo was her language. She brewed teas for bleeding wombs, laid hands on bellies, and called upon spirits to cleanse and restore. But who laid hands on her?

In the Black Southern tradition, postpartum was not a solo act—it was communal. But Annie’s community revered her power, not her pain. And so she hid inside her potions. She buried her tears in tinctures. She wrapped her belly not with cloth but with duty.

The Spiritual Weight of Staying While Everyone Leaves
When Smoke abandoned her in the thick of grief, Annie stayed. That’s what Black women do—stay when the world walks away. But staying came at a cost. She became both the healer and the wounded. The caretaker and the forgotten. The powerful and the painfully alone.

Her hoodoo wasn’t performative—it was preservation. Every candle lit, every sigil drawn, every root boiled was a spell not just for others, but for herself. A way to remember. A way to remain.

An Invitation to Reimagine Postpartum
Annie’s story is a reminder that postpartum care must go beyond diapers and doctor’s visits. It must be ancestral. Emotional. Communal. Spiritual.

We must ask:
- Who holds the medicine woman when she breaks?
- What happens when Black mothers lose more than just children—but connection, care, and community?
- How do we rewrite postpartum narratives where ancient healing and modern grief collide?

Annie lives in all of us.
She is every Black woman who’s bled in silence.
Every birth worker who pours from an empty vessel.
Every lover who lost both child and companion.

Let Annie’s story move us toward a new way—a sacred reclamation of postpartum justice. One rooted in ritual, wrapped in community, and held by ancestors who remind us: You are not alone.

The Coochie Corner: Your Space for Questions and Tips

Missed a previous issue? Catch up anytime! Click below to read past newsletters:

Birthing Justice: Black Maternal Health Week with The Coochie Coach

Honoring the Journey: Healing, Advocacy and Wellness

Why do we need Doulas more than ever

Why Me, Why Now: The Birth of the Coochie Coach

Unstoppable: The Power of Women at Work

Catching the Gaps: Advocating for Black Maternal Health Through Doula Care

Beyond Boundaries: Your Portal to Wellness and Discovery

Introducing Us: The Inaugural Newsletter

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Thank you for being part of our journey—stay inspired, stay curious, and we’ll see you next month with more to empower and uplift!