Sam Dayze

Sam Dayze (33 - he/him). Parent to Starren (10 - she/her), Finnick (5 - she/her), and Shelter (3 - he/him)

Mobile, AL | New Orleans, LA

“I’ve had one miscarriage. My partner has had two. All of our pregnancies have been through at home artificial insemination. She was pregnant with what was going to be our first child when we were on our way to Orlando with friends. We got in a car wreck, and she miscarried the day after. It was hard, and we stopped trying for awhile. When we were ready to try again, we decided we’d both try to conceive. I conceived right away, but I miscarried at around 6 weeks. We found out she was pregnant a week later. I had so many emotions—excitement, fear, jealousy. My loss definitely sent me into a pretty deep depression it was hard to work through, and it was gut wrenching to reconcile that with the happy we’re-having-a-baby feelings I was also experiencing, and it was even harder to let go of the fear that we were going to lose this one too. But then she was born, and all was well. When our oldest child was two, we decided to try again, and my partner miscarried around 6 weeks. It was devastating, for her especially. We tabled having another baby for another two years, and then she still wasn’t ready to try pregnancy again, so I carried that one...and I spent the entire pregnancy scared I would lose the baby, at first because I’d had a loss before and after that because I developed a high risk condition.

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

I was sexually abused as a child. I always hated my body, because it was used against me. I self harmed. I didn’t want people to look at me or notice me. So my clothes were always oversized. I still struggle with binge eating disorder. I was the person wearing a jacket in 97 degree weather. Having kids forced me to be a lot more cognizant of all of that, and to do the work to process it, because I didn’t want them carrying the same baggage. I’m a lot more appreciative of my body now. This body was used to hurt me, but this body also crafted two babies, carried one to term and through birth, nursed that child for three and a half years, fed a few others through milk donation, and fed my third child who I didn’t birth. I’m especially proud I helped feed our third baby. He was born at 31 weeks via cesarean, because my partner developed severe preeclampsia. Between her and me and many milk donors, he got the human milk he needed to thrive.

Parenthood, especially parenting Finnick, also helped me understand my gender and start doing things for my body that made it feel more ME. Researching things for her—first when her presentation was consistently gender non-conforming from the time she began talking and reaching for clothes and other things on her own, and again when she was “not a boy, just a Finnick!”, and then again when she said she’s a girl and changed her pronouns to she and her—helped me put words to things I’d been feeling for years but didn’t have the language for. I started shopping a little differently, wearing my hair differently, adjusting my language, and feeling more ME in my body. In June I had surgery. My insurance wouldn’t cover top surgery, but they covered a reduction, and I asked my doctors to please take off as much as possible, and adjust the areola size and position...when I woke up and looked down, I just felt such profound relief I cried. I still do sometimes. This body fits who I am so much better now. I’m still the jackets in July guy though.

What was your postpartum experience?

I was sick when I was pregnant with Finnick. I had hyperemesis. I developed a heart arrhythmia. It was a never ending round of midwife appointments, high risk OB appointments, cardiology appointments, electrophysiology appointments , and multiple ER trips and hospitalizations, all between working full time and parenting a 5 year old. I was exhausted and full of anxiety, but I was also dealing with all of these feelings of nothing about my body or my self feeling right anymore. Discomfort with some aspects of womanhood wasn’t new to me—my kids call me Nova, because my partner was Mom, and none of the mother words ever felt comfortable or right for me. But pregnancy is when I first really started verbalizing that I didn’t feel altogether female. I was so overwhelmed I didn’t have time to think of what I expected postpartum. My energy went to coping with my fears surrounding delivery because of my health, but none of them came to pass. I had the quiet, unmedicated vaginal delivery I wanted with our midwife, backed by the high risk obstetrics team, that we as a family didn’t get with our first baby, who was born via emergency cesarean.

But while labor was a breath of fresh air after a miserable pregnancy, postpartum was...it was difficult. Unlike our oldest baby, Finnick cried, for hours on end. I remember listening to Demons by Imagine Dragons on repeat, or sitting in the bathtub with her cradled in my arms, with the water running and her whole body submerged except for her face, or wearing her in a carrier all day and night, because those were the only things that helped calm her down. I struggled with nursing in the beginning. She had jaundice, but it was so slight they discharged us home and had us come back every day for heel sticks, thinking it would resolve with frequent nursing and summer sunlight.

At eight days old, she was finally hospitalized with dehydration and a bilirubin of 23. I felt like a failure. Sleep was rare. At two weeks old, the pediatrician told me she was still losing weight. Again, I felt like a failure. So there was home healthcare and lactation consultants, and trying to figure out the problem, and finally at over a month old, she got back to her birth weight. I had to return to work at six weeks postpartum because I ran out of paid sick leave and couldn’t afford unpaid time. When I went to work and she got my milk in a bottle, she started refusing to nurse. And I felt like a failure again. We worked through that with sweat and tears, and then sometimes I’d have to leave a shift on my lunch break just to hold her for 20 minutes and nurse her while my partner sat in a quiet room because the baby had been screaming all night.

At three months postpartum, I had a cardiac ablation because medication still wasn’t controlling the arrythmia that didn’t go away post birth. I had complications involving defibrillation, and I returned to work a few days later because I couldn’t afford not to. After surgery, my milk supply tanked...and I felt like a failure again while I worked through that. It was just...hard. And isolating. And exhausting. And someone was always touching me. And it was never quiet. I constantly felt like I couldn’t breathe through the anxiety. I loved nursing but hated my chest more than ever, and I’d hated and resented it all my life already. My dysphoria bloomed, but I didn’t fully understand what it was or how to quantify it for a few more years.

Seeking out a purpose helped me cope. My pregnancy struggles taught me that many people don’t have supportive bedside care and advocation for their emotional needs and their birth plans, much less while managing high risk conditions. I had support a lot of people don’t get, and yet I found myself still lacking some of the care and help I needed. There aren’t enough midwives. There isn’t enough pregnancy, labor and postpartum support. There isn’t enough queer competent care. So I made a plan to go back to school and be some of that support for someone, and now I’m a labor nurse at the same hospital in which my kids were born.

Things got better over time. My milk supply went back up. I found a parenting support group. And we reached out to family for help. People from the group or a few family members would keep Finnick for a few hours at a time so we could breathe. My father in law came over and rocked her on his chest all night more than once so we could get more than 2 hours of sleep. At six months old, she started crying less, though things were still tough for her, and we didn’t know why. And when she was two we learned her 4th trimester struggle was because she had sensory processing disorder and was overwhelmed by all the things, and now we know she is autistic as well, as is my partner, and possibly me. Occupational therapy and learning how to help her navigate this world and accommodate her sensory and communication needs made a world of difference.

What is your truth?

You’re not failing at this. It’s hard. It’s really hard, and we have nothing in place to ease that burden. We have no pregnancy or parental leave. We have little access to the full spectrum of healthcare. We have no reliable safety nets. We have unhealthy work expectations and low wages. You are not failing at parenting. The system we have in place is failing you.

Why did you choose to participate in this movement and share your story?

Because there are times I feel invisible, and I want to be seen. Because I am still doing the work of getting comfortable in my body, and I always will be. Because ash’s photos bring me joy. Because I want people to know it’s ok to struggle with pregnancy and parenting, and to not love every aspect of either. Because there are other parents like me out there, and I want them to know they are loved and they are valid, and it’s okay to not know the words for yourself or to discover them at any age or to just be a person without words or labels.

Colleen Reid

Colleen Reid (40), mother to Finnegan Danger (12) and Eamon Prufrock (5)

Oak Park, IL

Colleen shares -

I had a miscarriage before I knew I was pregnant, and before I realized I wanted kids. It was early, but I named her Scarlett, and losing her was very hard. Like each of my children, she changed my path and taught me many things. She was a gift, and I’m grateful for her, even if our time together was short.

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

The journey to accepting my body has been purposeful, and the road has been winding. I have been abused most of my life, specifically sexually, but emotionally as well. Up until only a few years ago, the abuse was daily and I was not free to be myself.

I felt the pressure to be beautiful at a young age. My idea a feminine was based in abuse, codependency, and unattainable cultural expressions of femininity. In college, I toyed with my gender a bit, trying on masculinity for size, ultimately becoming more and more comfortable with being femme after I had children.

I went though a time where the sexual abuse was so overwhelming, and so destructive, that I told my partner I was asexual, fully believing this was the case. His response was not supportive. I was not allowed to be asexual. I was expected to have sex with him, and if I wouldn’t, it was sex therapy or divorce. It was made clear that this was a crucial piece of who I was supposed to be, and I wasn't doing it right. But my body had never been mine. My choice had never been respected. And who I was as a sexual being was completely unknown to me. Because I had never *really* consented. I acquiesced, as was expected, by the men in my life who ‘needed’ things from me. And when I tried to pull back, or take distance from the sexual part of my relationships, I was emotionally abused and blamed for their unhappiness. Crying through sex, and panic attacks with sex were my normal.

I became unexpectedly pregnant with Finnegan on the very day that my father died. I don’t believe in many things, but I strongly believe that he was a gift from my dad on his way out. Initially, I was elated. But it didn’t take long for things to get messy. I developed hyperemesis gravidarum. I lost nearly 50#. I lost a lot of hair, and ruined my teeth, and the severity of the malnutrition also gave me osteopenia and serious spinal problems. I didn’t eat or poop for weeks on end, and my organs began shutting down, which is intensely painful. My doctors tried to comfort me by telling me that women in German concentration camps were able to have healthy babies as long as they were able to stay hydrated, and that starvation didn’t harm their fetuses.

My body was failing me. I was so hopeful that his experience would be redemptive, and beautiful. I wanted to be the divine feminine as I grew, and labored. But instead I was hospitalized more than a half dozen times, given 5 rounds of steroids, and home care for daily IV fluids and medications round the clock. I was broken. And there was just no hope for me. I felt stupid for thinking I would be capable of anything more.

The home birth I dreamed of was taken from me as I developed pre-eclampsia. And I literally sobbed the entire way home from the doctor and while I packed. I felt certain the hospital would kill me, and I would die. It was a HORRIBLE hospital, and a terrible experience. He was occiput posterior with a brow presentation, and very difficult to deliver. I was given an epidural to control my blood pressure bc they worried I’d have a stroke. And then they cut my vagina open to make the delivery easier. It all felt barbaric and terrifying. But I survived, and I brought home my baby and heavily stitched perineum two days before Xmas.

Nursing was a very pivotal piece of body acceptance for me. My breasts were GIGANTIC. After having HG, I was also very thin. I felt terribly vulnerable to predators and men who would hurt me walking around with these giant things. It was also really difficult for me to deal with constant NEED for my body from my son, and surrendering myself to the demand of another, even a baby, was triggering.

But I was determined to do what was best for him, and stuck it out. And magically, something wonderful happened. I grew to love my breasts, and the power that they gave me to soothe his sweet child. That was the first time in my life that I ever liked having a body. My tiny boy taught me to find safety in surrender, and within my skin. And it was so amazing. It changed me. I even wrote about it and was eventually published on the cover of International Doula Magazine.

I became a Birth Doula, La Leche League Leader, child birth educator, and a bereavement and abortion Doula. I also helped pioneer the nation’s first integrative model of care that included birth doulas, midwives, and OBs. I spoke at several conferences and am quoted in a handful of books and articles. I found my place helping women see the strength and beauty in their own bodies. It was redemptive, and beautiful, and the most satisfying work.

Years went by, and the issues from my pregnancy worsened, leading me to have two spinal surgeries, and 2.5 years in physical therapy. All of this left me with permanent nerve damage in my right leg from the hip down, and parts of my abdomen and genital region. This was the beginning of disability for me. And it was hard to shake the feeling that pregnancy broke me. And it must have broken me because I’m less than. Inferior. Not entitled. Just like with sex.

It became clear that having more babies was a terrible idea. And I grieved. I had a Mirena placed, and I tried to move on. But that Mirena migrated due to a hyperflexed uterus, and a nerve damaged pelvic floor. Most of the time they fall right out— but mine was embedded in my cervix, and not working. At my 5 week placement check, they informed me it wasn’t working.

I was pregnant.

I wrestled a lot with this pregnancy. I decided it was a gift, since I had wanted another baby so badly, and hoped that my years as a birth worker had prepared me for another difficult pregnancy. But HG is never easy. I managed to only lose about 25# this time, ultimately gaining weight by the end, which was better than showing up to deliver almost 30# under my pre-pregnancy weight.

But I was also having pre-term labor from about 20 weeks, and was literally covered in some kind of hives that were relentlessly ugly and itchy and miserable. And my blood pressure continued to climb as the weeks went by, and the medication wasn’t helping as much as it should have been. I went to MFM every week. And there were always questions about my baby’s movements and behavior. He was too energetic. They always asked if I was diabetic. But I wasn’t. Something was off, and we didn’t know what.

At 34+5, my blood pressure was raging. Eamon was growth restricted, measuring small, and it was time to meet him. I was contracting like crazy but not feeling it yet, likely due to the nerve damage in my abdomen. When checked, I was 3cm and 60%. It was time.

After helping so many women champion their births, I was really hoping I could have a smooth birth with no problems. But what I got was the most traumatic experience of my life.

Eamon came in 3 contractions once it was time to push. He was 4#10, and only 16” long. The tiniest of things. They whisked him away to the NICU almost immediately. My OB gave me a moment with him, but the Neo people were not happy about that. It was time to deliver the placenta, and then sit in that strange space where you’ve just had a baby but you don’t HAVE a baby because they took it from you. Except the placenta wouldn’t come. The cord was brittle and broke. The placenta was degraded badly, and needed to be manually extracted. For the birth muggles here, it means my doctor put his entire fist inside of me up to his elbow, and fished out my raggedy placenta piece by piece. We had no idea why it was such a mess, but he thought the preterm labor was likely because the placenta couldn’t provide baby with adequate nutrition any longer, and that perhaps it formed poorly due to the damned mirena that was still in when I got pregnant. It’s also worth mentioning that my OB was also my boss of almost 10 years. Getting fisted by your boss in front of an audience is super awful, even if you understand the necessity.

I cried desperately in the days following, because I feared I had made a horrible mistake by having him. That perhaps I didn’t want another baby after all. I knew it was okay to not be in love with him yet. But I didn’t even want to be. My body had broken him. And he needed so much help. And it was all my fault.

He was intensely colicky. I was forced to leave all of my jobs to care for him. Crying every single hour of his life until at least 3 years old. He nursed every 2 hours exclusively for 18 months because he refused to eat solid foods— he has a litany of issues to manage now, though he is a happy boy. And the guilt I experience over not having done better for him seems to be inescapable.

I was soon divorced. With a special needs baby, a body that didn’t work, no job, and nothing going for me. But slowly, slowly, I found myself. And at 37 years old, I learned the true meaning of consent. And I learned the true beauty of sharing your body with someone you love. And THAT changed everything.

That tiny preemie just turned 5. He doesn’t know he’s special. Or that he’s difficult. His brother is 12. No one hurts me anymore. I’ve discovered that I’m queer (pansexual), and the joy I take from bodies in general, has been so redemptive. I have leaned to love me through loving others who look like me. And while it’s still difficult to love a body that doesn’t work, or that hurts me all the time, I think we’re going to be okay. This chubby broken body of mine is MINE now.

What is your truth?

I am braver than you think I am. I am stronger than you think I am. I can do impossible things. I’m smart, and I’m capable, and being disabled doesn’t change that. I also strongly believe that people treat you according to who they are, not who you are, or your value as a person.

Why did you choose to participate in this movement and share your story?

This is a hard question. I watched almost everyone I know participate. And I have been afraid. I held back the ugliest parts of my story at the gathering, because I feel like most people just can’t deal with it. As a retired birth worker, I’m sensitive to triggering others, or causing secondary trauma in others. I also don’t like the way people look at me afterward when I speak my full truth. The sharing was hard, but the photos were easy. It took me a long time to allow myself into that healing space. Because I have a lot of work to do, and I don’t have time to do it. The trauma is soooo big. And it’s all wrapped up in my abusive marriage and sex work and being queer.... who I am is in that story. And I guess I’m afraid to show people that. Because I know I’m awesome, but I don’t take it well when other people don’t think so. I guess I was afraid of confronting those triggers. Thank you for giving me the space and the encouragement to do this. 🖤

Samantha Thorn

Samantha Thorn (28) and Aiden (6.5)

Milwaukee, WI

Samantha shares -

“It’s been almost 2 years since my missed miscarriage. My baby was born sleeping on May 30th 2017, at 14w1d. I carried him for 9 days before he left my body; I wanted him to go naturally, I couldn’t bear to imagine going through a D&C with my sweet bub. I remember parts of his birth so vividly; driving home from work one night telling my body ‘its okay to let go’ and then giving birth to him in my shower just a few hours later, alone. Holding his small body, talking to him, and burying him the next day. As painful as it obviously was, his birth was also very healing... trusting myself and my body. His birth solidified that my next birth will also be a home birth. The first year after we lost him, was one of the darkest parts of my life, so much trauma was brought to the surface. I understand more now, why he couldn’t stay. But he was so very wanted and loved, and still so very missed. His older brother nicknamed him Zaggy (like a zigzag), and it’s stuck. Some other people in your life may forget, but you never do. I want to make sure I help as many people in my life remember Zaggy as I can.

How has parenthood impacted your body image? 

I have an odd relationship with my body. As a sexual abuse survivor, my body image is skewed to begin with, so parenthood hasn’t impacted it much, as there is kind of a void there; apathetic. I don’t hate my body, but I don’t love it, yet. I’m working on that still, as I believe it’s a vital part of being a woman, especially a mother. When I stop and think about my body, I’m proud of what it has accomplished in regards to my births, and breastfeeding; I'm not ashamed of my stretch marks or saggy breasts, and I've never really struggled with my weight, outwardly speaking I'm okay with my body. I think if parenthood has affected my body image in any way, it would be in the sense that I now look at myself and focus on being healthy, both physically and mentally.

What was your postpartum experience?
Postpartum after Aiden’s birth was a blur. I believe now, that I had some mix of undiagnosed PPD/PPA. I didn’t know what I was feeling and experiencing at the time, I thought it was normal. We had a perfectly normal, natural birth at a women’s pavilion, birth basically went just as I had expected it to. But once we got home, I spent almost all of my time secluded in bed with my baby, alone. It saddens me now to look back and realize how much I missed enjoying the newborn stage with my baby because I wasn’t supported enough mentally. When you’re a mom, you constantly second guess what you’re doing, if it’s the best thing or the right thing; I felt that for a long time with Aiden because of my mental health. The only thing I never second guessed or struggled with was breastfeeding. He was the most plump and healthy little boy ever. It wasn’t my original plan to breastfeed this long, it just kind of happened. When I said self wean, I meant it, and we’re here doing it. There’s a lot of misunderstanding about full term breastfeeding and natural weaning, and I used to think I needed to defend myself and my choices, but I’m past that point. I’m fully confident and content with our breastfeeding relationship, and really fucking proud too.

Postpartum after Zaggy’s birth was intense. I had no idea what to expect - nobody really talks about miscarriage or loss. I found myself searching the internet for support, trying to not feel so alone. To try and heal, I buried his body in a potted plant, and got a zigzag tattoo. But I mainly coped with alcohol, and other reckless behaviors. I was broken, in so many ways. His loss was the first domino in what led to me finally seeking therapy for the first time in my life, about 5 months later, and it also led to my sobriety. (16 months sober so far!) I was diagnosed with PTSD from childhood trauma/sexual abuse, and I now know that certain things with Aiden and Zaggy were triggers for me, and I feel better just even being able to understand some of that. He had to leave so I could grow. We weren’t ready for each other yet. Telling myself that now helps tremendously. I’m forever grateful for the experiences and lessons I received from my baby in the short time he was with me. Both of my babies have helped me in more ways than I even know.

What is your truth?

Your body, and mind, and baby know what to do. You are so much more powerful, strong and wise than you may realize! Even if you don’t understand why or how something happened, understand that some things are out of your control, and that it may have happened for a reason, a bigger purpose or meaning, regardless though, life does go on.

Why did you choose to participate in this movement and share your story?
I’ve seen a lot of my online mom friends participate, their stories and pictures are so unique and beautiful, so I wanted to be a part of this too. The feeling of community this project shares is incredible. Everyone is different, yet the same in so many ways. It is freeing to share all of this, to speak about my loss, struggles, and even my past abuse, so openly with the entire world. I feel very honored and privileged to be participating; I will forever cherish this experience, and have it as a reminder for this period of my life with my son.

Sharona Steed

Sharona Steed (32) currently 20 weeks pregnant and Adiya (2.5)

Los Angeles, CA | Photographed in San Diego, CA

Sharona shares - 

"Pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding have significantly affected my body image in a positive way. Having suffered with eating disorders for a decade, these changes and powerful transformations have empowered my view of myself and have encouraged me to view myself and my body in a more positive light.

The postpartum period with my first was rough for me since I had excruciating breast pain  for the first 6 weeks. One professional after the next failed to properly diagnose and treat me until finally I found an OB who had a solution. I came close to giving up breastfeeding altogether on multiple occasions during that time, and now that I'm 2.5 years in with my daughter I am more determined than ever to breastfeed her for as long as she wants to, despite the discomforts of nursing through pregnancy and the fact that I'm in the minority now, not knowing many people who have nursed their children even this long.

I want to help portray the beauty of motherhood, nursing, extended breastfeeding, nursing through pregnancy (and ultimately tandem nursing hopefully). For years I was ashamed and uncomfortable with my breasts and other parts of my body that identified my femininity and reminded me of how I had been violated as a child. I still struggle with the aftermath but being a mother and making the parenting choices I have along with my husband has helped me heal so much more than the years of therapy I've done.  I love capturing these moments, showing women just how strong and courageous they really are and helping normalize basic and important elements of motherhood that are so taboo in our society.

(I want other parents to know) You are stronger than you think you are, and your instincts for yours and your child's needs trump anyones ideas about how you should parent."

Christina Deshayes

The dashing Christina Deshayes, Levi (3), and Micah (10 months). 

Christina's motherhood journey started with a traumatic experience at her first birth, and has progressed with significant healing and growth since. Her first pregnancy was healthy, but labor was very long. She wasn't progressing as the doctors felt she should be, and was bullied and demeaned during labor. Her son had aspirated meconium during the last stage of labor and spent a week in the NICU. She experienced postpartum depression, anxiety, and PTSD as a result. As a survivor of previous sexual abuse, the circumstances she navigated during her birth were a very similar violation. To top it off, Levi was a colicky baby who slept very little and cried almost nonstop.

"I slowly began to dig myself out, and when my son was almost 1, I decided to go to nursing school to be a nurse. My plan is eventually to become a Certified Nurse-Midwife. I started my first necessary prerequisite for nursing school on my son's first birthday".

Very contrary to her first birth, Christina had a wonderful doula and midwife and felt supported and in control during her second labor and birth. She had healed emotionally from her first birth before she even became pregnant again, but was graciously given the opportunity to experience the stark contrast of how empowering and peaceful a birth can be when mom is supported and respected. "My journey in womanhood has involved me changing from a person who was terrified to ever speak up for myself to a confident, assured human. I am comfortable in my identity for the first time in my life. This has been a long time in the making; but my motherhood journey has been no small part of it. Motherhood is a journey in itself. I never feel like I have the balance between "mom" and "woman" - in many ways they are the same, but they are also quite different. I am a recovering perfectionist, and motherhood, like life, can never be done perfectly - I have come to peace with that but still have days".

"It has taken the vast majority of my life for me to be comfortable in my own skin. This project is such a beautiful representation of motherhood and womanhood, and how much different, and better, life can be if we show love to those around us and to ourselves. I chose to participate because I hope that when I look at my final pictures I will see a representation of my story thus far, and my intense love for my family. I also want to share my story because, after my first birth, I have never felt so alone. I felt abandoned, beat down, invisible, and like a failure to everyone around me, including myself. I hope that sharing my story will be both healing for me and healing for someone else who needs to know they are not alone."

Kaitlin Walker

The wonderful Kaitlin Walker, Kimberly (4), and Raphael (8 months).

Kaitlin says she feels lucky to have had beautiful, relatively textbook birth experiences at home. She is passionate about birth and troubled by the way women are so often disrespected and given unnecessary interventions in the US. She was totally totally transformed by motherhood and says that she never could have imagined that after working towards a PhD with a focus on feminist theory, she'd be a stay-at-home mom who home schools. It makes sense for her and after her daughter was diagnosed with autism she felt the extra push to make a shift towards staying at home. "It's the only way I can respect her and let her be herself."

"Birth and motherhood and breastfeeding are so hugely important to me, together they have changed everything and helped me learn how to fully respect children and myself. A close family member was raped as a child and this intergenerational trauma made me very uncomfortable with my femininity and my body for a long time. Birth and breastfeeding changed that in a huge way."

Audrey Griffith

The amazing Audrey Griffith, Quinn (10), Jude (7), Cyrus (5), Reuben (22 Months). Audrey also experienced miscarriages in 2005, 2008, and 2010. 

Audrey was 17 when she got pregnant with her oldest, not yet married and had just graduated from high school. The pregnancy sped up the process a bit and they wed just a few months before Quinn arrived. Audrey planned to deliver at the hospital that her mother, she, and her husband had been born in, and where her grandmother had worked as a labor and delivery nurse for over 25 years. She thought that meant she was in good shape to have an easy birth when she was induced with Cervidil at 42 weeks. Within about 10 hours, Audrey was in active labor and chose to get an epidural at 4cms. Her water was broke the following morning and they started Pitocin. About six hours later, Quinn started to show signs of distress and they wanted to prep her for a cesarean. Audrey asked that they turn off the Pitocin, give her time, and oxygen and that was all that she needed. She was complete and ready to push but the epidural was so strong she wasn't very effective. They turned her epidural down but pushing wasn't making much progress so they offered her the choice of vacuum assistance or a cesarean. Audrey chose the vacuum and to tear naturally versus having an episiotomy and Quinn was born without complication about 10 minutes later. Audrey is grateful that her care providers gave her choices and she was able to participate in her care.

By the time, Audrey got pregnant with Jude they had moved to San Jose, CA and then moved back east to Huntington, WV to be closer to family. She decided that she did not want to give birth in a hospital but her husband was not yet comfortable with a home birth. They felt lucky to find an independent birth center that accepted their insurance and her pregnancy with Jude was long but uneventful. Audrey went into labor after one last lovemaking session at 41 weeks 6 days. She was 8 cms dilated when they arrived at the birth center and her water broke as she stood up. Audrey was Strep B positive but refused antibiotics as it was just too much to get the IV placed at that stage of labor. Jude arrived just 20 minutes later without any complications. Audrey had hoped to breastfeed again but struggled with pain and after developing mastitis in both breasts needed to wean.  

When Audrey conceived Cyrus, her husband was on board with a home birth and they found an amazing midwife. She had a wonderful pregnancy and went into labor at 42 weeks and 1 day with the aid of castor oil. She felt much more prepared for the pain this time and had practiced some coping techniques to use. After receiving antibiotics for Strep B again, labor stalled but walking was enough to ramp things up a bit. Audrey's waters broke while pushing and just a few pushes later Cyrus was born without any issues other than some bleeding that was controlled with a shot of Pitocin.  Audrey again attempted to breastfeed but switched to formula after three days. 

In the winter of 2013, they conceived Reuben by surprise and chose to deliver at home again with the same midwife. This pregnancy, Audrey found that she focused a lot on self care, eating well, resting, exercising, and natural supplementation. Reuben was a very active baby and was flipped between breech and transverse in her late third trimester. Audrey used spinning babies techniques, went to a chiropractor weekly and did some Birthing from Within exercises and meditation to try and get him to stay head down and finally was able to get him to flip. She went into labor at 42 weeks and 2 days with the help of castor oil again. Audrey relaxed through early labor and then got in the tub to cope with pain when she immediately went into transition. She felt an immense amount of pain in her pelvis and switched to a birthing stool but couldn't get the leverage she needed to push. She tried laying in bed on her back to push and Rueben's head was delivered en caul but his shoulders became stuck. He began to turn blue and her midwife asked her to flip onto her hands and knees so she could perform a Gaskin Maneuver. Her midwife had to insert her hand to free his shoulder and arm from her pelvis and allow him to slip free. Audrey needed a moment to recover and Rueben required blow by oxygen to pep back up but physically they were both okay. Months later though she would start to process how traumatic the birth had been. Audrey had done a lot of work to prepare for breastfeeding but within 24 hours it was unbearably painful again. She called her midwife crying and she gave her permission to quit. Audrey says that two years later she is still grieving and working through her anger that she will never get to exclusively breastfeed a child.

Postpartum was very difficult for Audrey following Rueben and she began to realize that she was struggling and needed help working through some things. Audrey is a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. She was molested by her babysitter's son at the age of four and the abuse continued via a half-sibling until she was 14. It was the PTSD that was triggered through Rueben's difficult birth that led her to dealing with her past. After 9 months of hard work, Audrey is finally starting to feel like herself, again. She's learned to extend grace to herself and is finding happiness she struggled to experience before. She's able to be intimate with her husband and enjoy herself, is feeling less triggered, more present with her children, and finding time for the things that she likes to do.

"It's not wrong or bad to take care of yourself and it doesn't have to fit anyone else mold! I am at peace with my body and I want to document it."

Lauren Griffin

The lovely Lauren Griffin, Trey (5), Logan (4) and Lillee (1).

Pregnancies were always quite easy for Lauren and her first birth experience led her to where she is now in life as a doula. Her doula left a lasting impression on her that changed her destiny. Her birth experience with her eldest didn't go as planned, she had wanted an unmedicated birth but ended up with an induction at 41 weeks, which led to medications and an emergency cesarean which was heartbreaking for her and led to postpartum depression. Her doula remained professional and supported her thorough every decision she made which has really stuck with her. 

Lauren says her second birth story was somewhat written for her. It hadn't been two years since her previous birth and her husband at the time received orders when she was six months pregnant.  Giving birth in a military hospital is a very different experience and she knew she was in for a repeat cesarean, no questions asked. She was given the option for a trial of labor with Lillee but the stack of paperwork full of what-ifs, led her to feeling bullied away from trying. Even though Lauren has had three cesareans, she loves knowing she is equipped to  support women through whatever birthing choices they make because she's been there. She knows what it's like to have a plan and have it not work out, as well as, help one achieve their goals with non-judgment. Birth, however it happens, is important and provides a pivotal moment in our lives as women. 

Lauren dealt with oversupply issues while breastfeeding Trey and she realized the experience of nursing him and pumping was contributing to her postpartum depression. She knew that her mental health mattered more than how she was feeding her son.  Lauren opted out a nursing relationship with Logan, in part because of her first experience with postpartum depression and also because the breastfeeding support, especially for woman of color where she lived, was so dismal. While she avoided postpartum depression she still deals with some guilt. Lauren had attempted to nurse Lillee but struggled with feeling the support needed from her partner at the time to continue. While her life has taken one path, she loves knowing that she is agan, equipped to support mothers in whatever they choose. If they want to bottle feed, she'll help them pick out formula, if they want to breastfeed, she'll work them in finding the resources to get there. 

Seeing women, baring it all has been so important for Lauren. Seeing herself in other women's stories and having her eyes opened to new realities has been so empowering. Lauren feels as if her life, especially as it relates to her body and self, have been a climb uphill from the very beginning. She was molested by her father from the ages of 1-3 which led to a path of feeling confused and left her more open and vulnerable to future abuse and predatory people. She had also been brought up very religious and was a virgin until she went to college. She was taught that her worth was tied to her vagina and even though she knows better now it affected her. She lived the party life for some time and worked as a promotional model in night clubs where she got paid to show up scantily clad. She was taken advantage of by one of the record execs she used to work for and was in a position on a yacht with him on top of her where she said no but there wasn't much she could do. She was in the middle of the water, on his boat, and couldn't even imagine what would happen had she fought back. She worried that the comments would reign in that "she was asking for it", "did you see what she had on". This situation shut down this part of her life but she felt broken from there. She jumped from relationships looking for a sense of whole that she couldn't get from anyone but herself. Just now, at almost 30, she's finding a confidence in herself she's never felt before. She's coming into her own and says maybe her story will reach someone else who sees similarities. Most importantly, she says she's reclaiming her sense of self-respect. 

Jamie Morris

The wonderful Jamie Morris and Marshall (22 months). Jamie is also mother to Abigail Marye miscarried into her hands on 12/25/05.

Jamie grew up in a home, with parents who had both been considerably abused as children both physically and sexually. While they didn't continue the cycles there was a lot of emotional carry over and brokenness that surrounded her upbringing.

When Jamie was a young teen, close friends of hers were fostering a little girl who had been shaken and thrown against a wall by her birth mother. She was predicted to be vegetative due to her traumatic brain injuries but Jamie just fell in love with her. She and her brother introduced the idea of adopting this child to her parents and Jamie is now proud to call her, her sister. Jamie's sister has thrived in their care and though it has been a very intensive and difficult road she has exceeded every prediction set forth about the quality of her life. Jamie credits her sister for informing most of her life decisions including her decision to become a neuro occupational therapist and later adopt a child with special needs herself.

At 19, in her first year of college, Jamie found herself in an abusive relationship. She and her high school sweetheart had continued their relationship into college and at some point it had gone from being emotionally to psychologically abusive, to physically and sexually abusive as well. He was her first sexual partner and at the time she didn't realize that she had been being raped and that being forced to lay completely still during sex "like a doll" were not normal or safe for her. It was during one of these sexual attacks that she conceived her daughter.

Jamie went home for Christmas break and took a pregnancy test with a friend that was positive. After a doctor confirmed her pregnancy her mom took her in for an ultrasound. Jamie finally got to see her baby and suddenly everything felt real. The experience however, furthered her sexual trauma. Jamie had a male ultrasound tech who performed an internal ultrasound and berated her for bleeding. He demanded to know why she was even there, if she was already bleeding and her pregnancy wasn't viable but she hadn't been, everything had been fine before he inserted the wand and the blood started to flow. She learned that her baby had already passed at 12-13 weeks and didn't know what to do. She was sent home and told just to expect a heavy period. She had severe cramping, full blown labor pains and finally, on Christmas morning delivered her baby into her hand. Jamie was so stunned at the time she didn't know what it was and just flushed the toilet. She got in the shower and soon realized what had just happened, she didn't know what to do or what to ask for. It wasn't until she was much older that she learned she had the right to name her baby and was allowed to grieve her loss.

Christmas Day was always horrible for Jamie. When she was twelve a close friend from her small town was kidnapped, abused, murdered and found on Christmas Day in a drain pipe. Her dad was in the search party that found the girl which made it feel even closer to home. Christmas Day was also the day that she always had to push off a family member who was very abusive and would try to touch her and grab her sexually. And now she had given birth to her dead baby silently and alone on the same horrible day.

In the aftermath of this loss, Jamie attempted to set her life on a different path. She went back to school and unfortunately fell into another abusive relationship in which she was date raped severely multiple times, often waking up with him on her and in her. She says she didn't know she could speak up for herself. That she could say no. That it wasn't okay. Finally, Jamie she sought counseling,healing, and change and learned a lot about herself. She had a female psychology professor at school who mentored her and was a huge influence in her life. Her mentor was a feminist and helped her realize that she had worth, that she was equal. Her entire life changed.

Jamie worked in foster care between graduating college and getting her Master's in OT and realized that if she were ever to have more children she wanted to adopt. She knew she couldn't live through another miscarriage and due to her fibromyalgia and other chronic health conditions knew that another pregnancy would likely be high-risk and that she could potentially pass these conditions onto a biological child. She had a heart for children with special needs and there were already so many children out there who others were choosing to pass over that she felt compelled to choose adoption first.

Dating seriously became tricky as she realized that most men wanted to have at least one child of their own. Until, she met her husband who also had always wanted to adopt. After they were married, they had just started looking into adoption when Jamie was on Facebook one day and came across a posting from an adoption agency in Chicago with a little boy, "Baby K", who they couldn't place due his neurological conditions.

Baby K's birth parents were just teenagers, the first of their families to go to college. They chose to place their baby for adoption openly and were looking into families. His mother hadn't had any prenatal care prior to 32 weeks when she went into preterm labor. They were able to stop that labor and began to monitor her but at 34 weeks, she had a placental abruption and both she and her baby nearly lost their lives. Baby K was born dead and had to be resuscitated. It took them 10 minutes to revive him and he immediately started having seizures. They diagnosed him with hypoxic ischemic encephalopathy (HIE) immediately and he had a severe hemorrhagic stroke in his left occipital lobe causing much of the tissue to die. Because he had drown in amniotic fluid his ventricles were stretched and then receded quickly causing severe leukomalacia spots around his ventricles. He's also mostly blind due to cortical vision impairment and has a lesion near the sleep center of his brain which means that getting him to sleep has always been nearly impossible. The doctors put him on 72 hour cooling protocol which saved his brain and allowed him to live but all of the families who had been interested in adopting him, immediately backed out. They didn't want to parent a "broken" baby.

Baby K was left to live on the nursing floor of the adoption facility for the first 4 months of his life. The rotation nurses certainly gave him love but they did not know how to meet his neurological needs. He had never left that room and by the time Jamie met him he had a lot of the same issues that babies in orphanages do. He had very high tone in his back, was rigid and stiff, and because he could stand up as young infant they let him stand. He also had severe plagiocephaly and torticollis from laying flat for so long.

Baby K is now Marshall and Jamie and her husband are so grateful to be his parents but it hasn't been an easy road. After falling in love with Marshall they had to have home studies done for both Colorado and Chicago as they were adopting across state lines.  Though they had been approved with flying colors and Marshall's birth parents chose them, they ran into legal loopholes that left Jamie stuck with Marshall in Chicago for 6 weeks after they took placement before they able to bring him home. She had been staying with a friend of a friend as they navigated the final steps of their adoption and she was gracious enough to keep her doors open to them.

One woman from Interstate Compact on the Placement of Children (ICPC) who needed to sign off on them leaving the state with Marshall had decided that Jamie was an unfit mother because she had fibromyalgia, anxiety and had previously sought counseling. Her job was to prevent human trafficking not make these decisions but she was trying to block the adoption and they now had to wait for state approval as well. Doctors had already signed off on everything, they had been cleared at the FBI office, but they now had to fight for their child.

Jamie had previously taken a course on postpartum depression with adoption and brushed it off as something that had would never happen to her. But after this struggle to bring Marshall home and after being left alone with a special needs infant experiencing the world for the first time with a mother he was just learning to know and trust - everything felt very intense. Her husband had to return to work and while the woman who they were staying with helped as much as she could Jamie was navigating uncharted territory and later realized that she absolutely had danced with PPD for awhile. It had stuck in her head that someone said she was unfit, she was up every hour with a child who could not be soothed, she was exhausted and uncertain.

At 5 months old, Jamie and her husband, were finally able to bring their son home. Motherhood has been more wonderful and more challenging than Jamie ever could have imagined. Marshall's care is very involved with lots of specialists and therapies but together they have learned so much. They are bonded, he is exceeding every expectation, he is happy. Skin to skin time, non-nutritive sucking, baby wearing and co-sleeping have allowed Jamie and Marshall to bond in a way that they struggled to forge for so long.

Their adoption is open and Jamie also feels incredibly bonded to Marshall's birth parents. She was in their shoes when she was pregnant with her daughter, afraid to go to the doctor and uncertain what her future would be. They have given her the greatest gift of being able to call herself mother to Marshall who forever changed not only her life but Christmas for her in the best of ways. Marshall was also born on Christmas and now, it's one of her happiest days.

Jamie wants other women to know that you can chose adoption first.

"Whatever you're going through, you're not alone - there is someone, somewhere walking your path."

Lynnette Taylor

The lovely Lynnette Taylor with her daughter's Mollie (13), Abbie (11), Zoie (8). Lynnette also lost a baby, Zion, to miscarriage in 2005. Lynnette was 19 when she got pregnant with Mollie unexpectedly. She looked for abortion clinics in the phone book but came across abortion alternative's first and says that she never looked back. She was hesitant to get prenatal care because she had been sexually abused in childhood and entrusting a doctor in such a personal way was difficult. Her mom was really supportive and excited, however, which helped Lynnette through. She dealt with morning sickness and developed preeclampsia during her pregnancy and ultimately went into labor at term. Lynnette opted for an epidural which caused temporary paralysis. She was able to have a vaginal delivery but Mollie was taken away from her because she was cold and Lynnette was running a fever. She says it made sense to her that her body had heated up to keep her daughter warm and she had to fight to have her brought back to her. Lynnette had to go back to work 3 days after her daughter was born, and because of this she was hemorrhaging severely, wasn't able to nurse and developed postpartum depression. With her second pregnancy, Lynnette had really bad back pain as well as severe morning sickness. She was induced at term and says that the epidural only numbed half of her body and she was screamed at for screaming during labor. Abbie was born healthy after a vaginal delivery and able to come home without issue. Lynnette's next pregnancy ended in miscarriage which was very difficult especially after hearing her babies heartbeat. She blamed herself a lot for this loss. A year later, she conceived Zoie which means full of life. During pregnancy she was told that Zoie had a heart valve that wasn't working and may need surgery after birth. Lynnette had decided that she wanted to have a more natural experience after things not going as she'd hoped with Mollie and Abbie, so she sought the care of midwives. She went into labor on her own 8 days post dates and didn't need any pain medication or an episiotomy this time. She felt so strong and thankful her body was capable. Her birth was peaceful and calm this time. There was a NICU team waiting outside of her room to check on Zoie due to present meconium and her potential heart condition but thankfully her daughter was perfectly healthy. Lynnette also started to hemorrhage after birth and remembers them telling her not to fall asleep. They massaged her uterus and injected pitocin and she was able to recover without issue.

Lynnette was very fit and active for most of her life. She was a ballerina and owned a dance studio but has also struggled with anxiety and post traumatic stress disorder as a result of the sexual abuse she endured. She takes medicine to help her mental health but it also makes her gain weight. As a result, she has struggled with her weight and body image and has even considered having cosmetic surgery. It was while scouring the internet in researching tummy tucks and liposuction that she came across this project and realize that she couldn't teach her daughters to love and accept their bodies if she was unhappy with her own. She says that she feels stronger now and realizes the importance of knowing ourselves and our stories. She reminded us of one of our favorite quotes by Naomi Wolf, "A mother who radiates self-love and self-acceptance actually vaccinates her daughter against low self-esteem."