It went down on the floor of the House of Representatives Sunday as our elected lawmakers, the progressive ones I mean, struggled to insure passage of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. Perhaps the most heated moment came when Bart Stupak rejected last-minute GOP attempts to appropriate his anti-choice language for ultra-conservative ends. When Stupak sided for once with his own Party, someone from the GOP shouted out “baby killer.” Clearly the Republican Party and their Supreme Court minions have a contagious case of diarrhea of the mouth. But in this case, what bothers me is hypocritical posture of righteous indignation invoked by folks who insist upon throwing the proverbial “baby out with the bathwater,” and then acting as though the bathtub is the babykiller.

The infant mortality rate among African American infants is still more than double that of white infants, and nationally while Latino infant mortality rates are lower, in poorer states, Latino babies die across the board at a higher rate than their white counterparts.  It is not a huge intellectual leap to surmise that lack of access to good prenatal care, nutritious food, and ready healthcare access, plays a huge role in the rates of infant mortality, and given the disproportionate number of poor Black and Brown people, these rates are not shocking. It is conservatives who are notorious for their vicious and malicious opposition to social welfare programs, which they insist are “hand-outs.” But in my humble opinion, those who legislate into existence a permanent underclass are the real “babykillers.” If I were a conspiracy theorist, I’d almost think our well-meaning conservative brethren were invested in perpetuating generational cycles of poverty among Black and Brown folks. Who else can care for their children, clean their office buildings and homes, prepare their food, staff their factories [other than exploited overseas workers], or shine their shoes? Again, those are the musings of a conspiracy theorist.

When structural inequality shapes who eats well and who doesn’t, who has prenatal support and who falls through the cracks, the outcome isn’t just unfair—it’s deadly. Good nutrition is a cornerstone of healthy pregnancies and strong infant outcomes, yet entire communities are boxed out of access to the very basics: fresh produce, clean water, and culturally competent health education. These aren’t luxuries—they’re lifelines. And when those lifelines are cut by policy or neglect, we see the tragic results play out generation after generation.

This is where a Dietitian can be a powerful force for change—not just in clinics, but embedded in communities, advocating for food justice as public health. More than meal plans and vitamins, they can guide mothers through the labyrinth of gestational nutrition, screen for deficiencies linked to adverse birth outcomes, and provide tailored, affordable guidance that honors culture, budget, and biology. But for that to happen at scale, we need systems that make their expertise accessible, not just to those with private insurance and Whole Foods memberships.

Food deserts, underfunded clinics, and misinformation thrive where trust is broken and investment is absent. It will take more than good intentions to reverse these trends—it takes funding, policy, and the will to see Black and Brown lives as worth every ounce of care. A society that invests in equitable nutrition is one that plants seeds not just for healthier babies, but for generational strength.

Access to quality healthcare, including prenatal care, is critical in addressing the issue of infant mortality rates among communities of color. Unfortunately, many low-income communities lack access to such services due to factors such as geographic location and financial barriers. That’s where urgent care clinics like urgent care clinic 10467 come in. These clinics provide affordable and accessible healthcare services to those who may not have access otherwise. They offer a range of services, including prenatal care, that can help address the root causes of high infant mortality rates among communities of color. We must invest in and prioritize healthcare centers to address these health disparities and improve outcomes for all.

I am, however, convinced that the state is the absentee baby daddy of every poor Black and Brown girl who ever finds herself undereducated, without work or options, in search of love in all the wrong places, and eventually pregnant, then a mother often willingly, but just as often not, then left at the mercy of someone who calls her names, maligns her character, and refuses to support her or the children on the grounds that she’s a golddigger. I might be talking about any trifling unready father, or I might be talking about your friendly governmental welfare program, that creates the conditions of under-education and lack of opportunity that make premature motherhood a real possibility and sometimes an attractive option in a life searching for purpose. Whatever the case, it is because of these circumstances that I rejoice in this monumental step forward in increased healthcare access. Yes, women’s wombs have unfairly been cast as the battleground.  Yes, our wombs are still in the vice grips of the state, but post -legislation, many more young Black and Brown moms will have access to the resources they need to give their children a fighting chance. And that is something to smile about.