Veranda Rodgers knows the mountain of obstacles new mothers face when they bring a baby into the world. Those challenges can be even higher for Black mothers in Cleveland. 

Black babies in Cuyahoga County are three times more likely to die before their first birthday than white babies, according to First Year Cleveland (FYC), an advocacy organization focused on reducing disparities in infant deaths. 

It is why Rodgers founded the nonprofit Pregnant With Possibilities in 2015, to support Black mothers in Cleveland through their pregnancy and postpartum journeys. 

Rodgers’ is getting ready to pitch her project, Bloom, at Accelerate: Citizens Make Change, a Cleveland Leadership Center competition that offers residents a chance to win money to launch their unique idea to improve their community. Bloom would be a behavioral health agency that would serve clients at Pregnant with Possibilities. 

Rodgers shared her story with Signal Cleveland. Her words have been edited slightly for brevity.

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When people ask why I do what I do, I tell them this: I was born on purpose, for a purpose, and for this purpose. 

Before I was born, my mom had two ectopic pregnancies. The doctors told her she would never have children. But here I am. Thirty-six years old. Happy, healthy, whole. 

I am the child that my parents prayed for and did everything in their wheelhouse to bring to this earth. I am a miracle baby. 

When I say I was born for a purpose, here is what I mean: I got pregnant at 16. It was not the life my parents envisioned for me. I remember the day I told my dad I was pregnant. He said, “You’re going to end up like the rest of your family.”

A lot of women in my family have babies and their life just stops. Those dreams they have die. I believe it was because of a lack of hope or inspiration. Someone to show them something different. The purpose of my life was illuminated: it was to beat the odds. 

‘My purpose solidified’ 

I grew up in Warren, Ohio. It’s a small town just north of Youngstown. I was the only Black person in my graduating class. I was maybe one of 10 Black people in my entire school. Imagine that pressure: being young and pregnant and one of the only African-American girls in your school. There’s definitely a social stigma that goes along with it. 

I navigated my junior and senior year of high school with a kid. I worked two jobs: I was a cashier at K-Mart and I worked as a customer service rep at a call center. I would go to school, straight to work and then study all night long. 

But I graduated. I went to get my undergrad at Cleveland State University. I went to get my master’s in business adminstration at University of Phoenix. I navigated my entire life with a young child. 

But I didn’t do it alone. I had support.

The man I fell in love with at 15, the father of my child, Terrill. We have a success story. He has supported me through it all these years. We’ve been married for almost 13 years and have been together for about 24 years. But that’s not the reality for a lot of teenage parents. 

One day in my master’s program I was asked: If you never got paid a dollar, what would you do and why? 

Infant and maternal mortality was a major issue for individuals who look like me. My own experiences navigating life with a baby also probably shaped it. Our parents were great support systems. But I understand that not everyone has that support system. 

It is the reason I created Pregnant With Possibilities. The goal was to fill the gaps for people who don’t have the support and provide resources that mamas, daddies, babies and families need to survive and thrive. 

My purpose was solidified: I wanted to go back into the communities where I came from. I wanted to be a pillar of support and light for all of those young moms who needed someone to encourage them on their motherhood journey. 

‘I am making an impact’ 

In 2014, I began working on making that dream happen. A year later, that dream officially became a nonprofit. 

I started off with a few classes with pregnant and new mothers in the community, supporting and educating them on stress management, breastfeeding and financial planning. We also had a few classes in schools teaching teens about sexual health, self-esteem and healthy relationships. 

Fast forward to this present moment and we have an office space located in Maple Heights that serves a number of clients, but predominantly Black mothers who live on Cleveland’s East Side. 

It’s a much bigger space for all our programs for young girls and teens, women support groups and our baby items and resource pantry for new mothers. We host a number of community events to celebrate the beauty of motherhood and the value of building community. Now, I’m excited to announce we’re expanding with Bloom. 

Our center will be a one-stop shop for our mothers. They can come in for baby blankets, diapers and clothes. They can take a yoga or craft class if they’re feeling overwhelmed. Or if they need more counseling or support, there will be a Black therapist right there to talk to them or help them with their needs. My hope is that they walk through our doors, they feel seen, heard and safe. 

‘I’ve broken barriers’ 

Pregnant with Possibilities has taken on several different forms, yet our work to support moms and decrease the number of Black babies who die each year in the city remains the same. 

I understand and see that the people who walk through our doors each and every day are looking for new possibilities. They look like me. I see them, and it reminds me of a young, nervous teenage girl who only wished she had people in her life that told her: I see you, I got you. 

I wanted to be the example for others in my family. It was the fuel that propelled me to become the best version of myself, for my sons, Tyrin and Tristan, for my family, and for my community. 

Now I’m a beacon of hope, walking my personal path and mission. I inspire all of those around me to become the best versions of themselves to serve their purpose in life.