The majority of incarcerated women in the U.S. are mothers, often the primary caregivers to young children. Each year, an estimated 58,000 pregnant people are admitted to prisons and jails nationwide, according to the Advocacy and Research on Reproductive Wellness of Incarcerated People (ARRWIP).
Since 2010, the Minnesota Prison Doula Project (MNPDP) has worked to ensure the safety and well-being of pregnant and postpartum mothers behind bars. Offering emotional, physical, and educational support, MNPDP is part of a national coalition under The Ostara Initiative — a name that symbolizes spring and new beginnings. Ostara includes partner programs in Alabama, Oregon, Illinois, California, Texas, and Minnesota.
On July 16–18, MNPDP hosted 13 doulas from eight states — including Virginia, Washington, Mississippi, and Wisconsin — for an advanced prison doula training in South Minneapolis. Held at the New City Center, the three-day training was designed to expand the doulas’ skills and deepen their impact with incarcerated clients.
Tracey Russell, a full-spectrum doula from Wisconsin and a trainer at the event, recalled what she learned when she first took the training herself.
“It really helped me understand and level-set the expectations and limitations that exist when providing doula services inside a facility,” said Russell. “Today, I hope that the women coming from different states can take what they’ve learned and implement it in their own jails and prisons.”
Raelene Baker, director of Ostara’s Bureau of Prisons Doula Program, explained that many doulas are drawn to this work because they’ve been directly impacted by incarceration or given birth while incarcerated themselves.
“There are so many differences between supporting clients in the community versus in a prison,” Baker said. “They’re not choosing where they deliver, what hospital, or what care provider. They can’t have their loved ones present — the other parent often isn’t allowed in the room. All of those choices are taken away.”
Abigail Meyer, a South Minneapolis native and reentry doula with MNPDP, said she was proud to have the advanced training hosted in her hometown for the first time. Meyer connects with clients while they’re incarcerated and continues to support them through reentry.
“What I love most is building relationships while people are still inside,” she said. “For a lot of our clients, it’s the only safe space they have to talk about their families, to talk about breaking generational curses and trauma. I learn from them every week.”
Meyer will expand her services through weekly drop-in hours at the Anything Helps Northside Hub in North Minneapolis, where returning citizens and their families can access baby supplies, peer support, and resources every Wednesday from 12 p.m. to 2 p.m.
One training participant, Syah Russell of Vancouver, Washington, was inspired to become a prison doula after giving birth while incarcerated as a teenager. She now volunteers at Coffee Creek Correctional Facility, a women’s prison in Oregon.
“When I was 16, I was pregnant when police came to my house with a warrant for someone I didn’t know,” she recalled. “They slammed me on the ground, took me to adult jail. I was bleeding and sat there for two days before I saw a doctor.”
Syah was shackled during labor, denied skin-to-skin contact, and not even allowed to name her child.
“I got out and didn’t have a connection with my baby. It took months before I could even hold her,” she said. “That trauma stayed with me through my teens and even now, at 40.”
Healthcare services in correctional facilities vary greatly, and the needs of pregnant people are often unmet or dismissed. MNPDP founder Erica Gerrity believes trained doulas are one vital piece of a broader solution.
“Prisons are where a lot of intersecting health disparities come together — mental health, chronic disease, maternal care, substance use disorder,” said Gerrity. “People are incarcerated because these public health issues weren’t addressed in the community. In the prisons where we don’t have doulas, the conditions are beyond inhumane.”
MNPDP’s reentry specialist, Tierre Caldwell, agrees. As someone who supports both incarcerated parents and returning citizens, he’s seen firsthand how doulas bring hope and knowledge to families.
“Doulas offer emotional support, physical support, and support in the community,” said Caldwell. “They’ve taught me — especially as a man — about pregnancy, what infants need, what mothers go through in each trimester. A lot of parents never got that. But through doulas, we’re raising up more informed families.”
As the Ostara Initiative continues to grow, doulas trained to serve incarcerated parents are helping shift the narrative — restoring dignity, building connections, and giving families the tools they need for healing and transformation.
Learn more about the Minnesota Prison Doula Project at www.ostara.org.
Bintah Kanteh is a contributing writer for MSR with interest in public policy and local immigrant communities.
Editor’s Note:
This article has been updated to reflect two corrections. The website link for the Ostara Initiative has been corrected to https://www.ostarainitiative.org. Additionally, a phrase in the second paragraph previously implied that Minnesota had only recently implemented the Prison Doula Project. Minnesota was the first state where the program began. The phrase “and now Minnesota” has been removed to accurately reflect this history.