How to Create a Village When You’re Trying to Conceive
by Whit Williams-Black
I had not thought much about who I wanted around me as we began dreaming of our family. I knew enough to know that boundaries with in-laws had to be drawn; privacy was important. That said, I didn’t know that I would feel awkward telling my friends that I wasn’t drinking anymore. I had not thought about how I would tell them, what I would say, or how it would feel. Of all people, as a fertility doula, I wasn’t ashamed or nervous, but, at the same time, it didn’t feel natural to spark that conversation.
As a matter of fact, when I was at a conference of Black Queer parents, I remarked “We just don’t know many couples our age who are ready for kids and in our area.”
The universe has a way of bringing things around though.
Almost as soon as I said that, my priority became about making the world around me a safe environment for a little one. When I envisioned that environment, I called it a village, hoping to evoke an image that returned to a time when the children could run out into the central space, all home doors opening into a physical area where they are seen and protected from the outside.
In our imagined village, the littles are free to be with each other as the ecosystem of adults around them works hard to keep that place sufficient for everyone.
Considerations for Building Your Village
Do you know that one video circulating social media that says, “The village is no longer free...” In it, a mom goes as far as to insinuate that the long-held tradition of family care during the postpartum period is currently unreliable. Instead, they propose, that each and every parent be prepared to pay for this care.
That did not sit well with me and it made me think of all the disabled, single, traumatized, and unseen parents who far too often also have a hard time getting pregnant. Only to get pregnant, give birth and then have to rely on and consequently be hazed into new parenthood by unhelpful family and disinterested friends.
So these are some of the questions I am sitting with, and perhaps if you are trying to conceive, you, too, are curious about:
What does it mean to create a village for yourself? What medicine do you have and can give to your circle? What medicine do you need? Who has access to that?
How does one even go about creating a village in a Western society that has capitalized on nuclear families and individualism?
Who is needed in a village? What are their roles?
And specifically, for those who are dreaming of building a family, have you created a village to ask questions about your cycles, stay connected as you navigate TTC and (hopefully) pregnancy? Can your current circle support you during the transition from person-to-parent?
Make New Friends but Keep the Old
I should first confess that becoming a friend is something that I have been actively practicing in the past year. In 2018, I experienced a huge loss. By 2020, my grief had compounded as I moved to a new city. By 2022, I was falling out with the few friends I had and lost most of my blood-familial ties. By 2023, I was praying that my heart would be softened, that I could forgive, and that the universe would send me good friends for the new chapters I was about to walk through.
Even as a youth, I didn’t always have a great track record as a friend. I have sustained two childhood friendships who I view as siblings; while we don’t speak everyday, we do check-in and root for each other from afar.
It wasn’t until this year that all my reflecting on the relationships I have had, as well as the ones I left or had been abandoned by, that I started to relate differently. 2024 has been my “friend year,” and I have learned a couple things that have truly affected how I practice showing up for myself, my partner, and our family every day.
I wanted to include my history as a friend to lend itself to the way I have also been evolving as a community member.
Since becoming a doula, I have become very natural at inserting myself into the villages of others in the cities I have lived in – Roanoke, Harlem, Brooklyn, Huntsville, Chicago, The Bronx, and Durham. I get to learn folks’ faces, names, desires, likes and dislikes. I internalize those things and listen deeply, and actively and am changed by them. If I can do that with people I meet in my professional life, I knew I could take these highly valued skills and apply them to newfound friendships.
The really cool part is that I realized that I could bring all of my growth into old relationships, too.
My mama used to sing me a little rhyme that went “Make new friends but keep the old; one is silver but the others gold.”
One of the most valued relationships that I have rekindled this year has been the one with my godmother, my mother’s childhood best friend. She has been such a consistent person for me since I lost my mom (my first best friend) in 2018. She calls when she is thinking of me, and tells me stories about her and my mom that make me laugh. When I visit her and her family, I feel safe, and I have noticed that my pelvic floor is relaxed, my mind still, mouth humming. They feel like home for me.
There is also something to be said about who to tell, when, and what about the evil eye. A rule we have stuck to is: 1) We know we need companionship and 2) We know we want some folks to be surprised when we tell them. If there is someone out there who you believe will pester you with questions or become a walking pregnancy test, then your intuition is telling you that they may not need to be a part of your journey and that is okay.
For example, if you know you want a video of asking your best friend to be a chosen aunt/uncle/guncle/etc, you may not want to tell them about a (possible) pregnancy. You must balance honesty and privacy - letting people know where you are in your journey/keeping things closer to the chest.
My personal experience has been that those we let in have been supportive and don’t pry more than we invite them to. We answer their questions without feeling the need to overshare. Allow the natural shift in these relationships and feel it out for when to tell folks you’re not partaking or why you’re hibernating as the season will call for those changes naturally.
Below are a few more reflection questions for those of us who are seeking to grow and maintain our communities:
What does home feel like for you?
How does your body react to being at home?
Who feels like home for you and reminds you of your inner child?
Which relationships bring you home?
TTC and Baby Dust
I want us to find community amongst each other while trying to conceive and as we make other big transitions in life.
Some of the most hopeful friendships my partner and I have made have been queer couples who have recently become parents. Both of them I got to doula – which I must say, it’s an honor to become great friends with former patients.
The other thing I am holding onto is this phenomenon in the TTC community called “baby dust”. Per the Pearl Fertility website, “This term is used to wish someone good luck with conceiving a baby’ – not sex-selection which is another topic for another blog post.
When you are TTC, one of the best strategies you can use is to embed yourself into the lives of those family members, friends, and colleagues who are where you want to be or who share your values and goals. (By the way, TTC starts whenever you say it starts! This could be when you are first conceptualizing growing your family, when you start thinking about a donor when you actively start trying inseminations, transfers, or sex, and so on.)
Folks who are pregnant or just had a baby have a wealth of information.
If you haven’t heard, pregnancy and postpartum can be isolating, so these folks need and want community too! You have questions, and they have experiences that can help you get answers. They are being forgotten about by their childless friends and family who have been-there-done-that, and you are seeking a community of folks who are getting-there-doing-it!
There’s something special about having pregnant folks rub your belly (with consent), holding a newborn, or having TTC materials passed down to you by folks who don’t need them anymore!
The godparents to our future kids – a Black lesbian couple out of California - literally sent us LH (ovulation) tests, PreSeed lube, and a note with the words “Baby Dust” in the mail when they heard we were getting started.
Stay Connected
Wherever you are on your journey, I am wishing you baby dust! I hope that you can feel and be surrounded by love and care, whether they are folks who are local or long-distance. Keep up with me on Instagram at @wanttobewelldoula. Join me in their stories, broadcast channel and on the Wednesday morning lives.
Check out BADT’s Full Spectrum Doula Training if you’re a birth professional or aspiring birth professional who wants to support birthing and TTC families.
Bio: As a full-spectrum doula, Whit Williams-Black (she/they) is dedicated to serving the community. Early on in Whit’s birthwork journey, she felt the call to serve Black mamas, young parents, poor, LGBTQIA+, and QTBIPOC people in the South. Her goals are to one day become a community midwife and to open birth centers and community gardens across the Southeastern States of America.
Whit began studying power, reproductive justice, and feminist movements in 2015. She obtained a B.A. in Gender and Women’s Studies with a minor in Social Justice in 2018 from Hollins University. Since graduation, Whit has become a certified full-spectrum doula with Ancient Song Doula Services in NYC. Professionally, they have served as a Community Educator-- facilitating workshops on Childbirth, Reproductive Justice, Consent, and Pleasure.