Maggie Roth (34 - she/her) and Bodhi (16 mo)
Boston, MA
How has parenthood impacted your body image?
I spent 33 years getting to know and love my body. Some days were easier than others, but for the most part I felt strong and sexy in my body. Birth blew that all up. It felt like my body let me down. It couldn’t birth the baby and then couldn’t feed the baby. I couldn’t walk down the block for months. My hair was falling out. I hated my body and was so angry. Why was this happening to me? Why did my husband get to escape the raw physicality of pregnancy and childbirth? I avoided looking at myself in the mirror. It’s gotten better with time. I’m not quite at “strong and sexy,” but I can do a backbend in yoga class. I can carry my baby. I have no residual pain, internally or externally, at my scar. I can look in the mirror and feel grateful that my body healed. It’s only been 16 months, but I’m slowly getting to know this new body, too.
What was your postpartum experience?
After a normal pregnancy and early labor, Bodhi got stuck in the birth canal after two hours of pushing. Two attempts at a vacuum delivery were unsuccessful, so he was delivered via emergency cesarean while I was basically passed out from exhaustion. In the recovery room he started having "dusky events," which were being caused by seizures. After many tests, it was determined that he had a perinatal stroke, some time during the delivery.
We went home while Bodhi stayed in the NICU. A week later, I was readmitted to the hospital because of chills and high fevers -- it turned out I had a life-threatening blood infection and had to have an emergency stomach surgery. Bodhi and I were in different wings of the hospital so we didn't see each other for almost three weeks. While I was recovering, I was also pumping and my husband and family were shuttling breast milk back and forth between us. We were released on the same day, and though I was incredibly happy to be with my baby, I was in so, so much pain. I came home with a wound vac on my cesarean scar and two drains coming out of my belly and butt. I was not sent home with any pain medication and was told to take Tylenol. I could barely breathe, let alone nurse and bond with my baby. He would be handed to me to eat, and then quickly taken away to be burped, changed, napped, played with, etc. -- all things I was still too weak to do on my own.
I had to focus on managing my own pain before even thinking about his needs. After a month or so, I thought the worst was over, but then he started screaming at my breast during our nursing sessions. He wasn't gaining weight. At 7 weeks old, we discovered he was aspirating the breast milk into his lungs, so I had to stop breastfeeding and start giving him thickened bottles. We thought we fixed it and could move on. A month later, he continued to scream at the bottle and lose weight. The doctors had no idea. A milk allergy? Reflux? I knew it wasn’t right. We finally went to a feeding specialist who said we were on the verge of a full on bottle aversion and needed to act fast or he would just start refusing the bottle entirely. We narrowly escaped that.
It was 6 months of anxiety and fear every time I gave him a bottle. Would he eat it? Would he cry? Is he getting enough? He wasn’t on the growth chart and the next step was a feeding tube. After all the early trauma, I wasn’t sure I would be able to handle another hospitalization. But just in time, our sweet boy discovered solid food. We fed him the fattiest foods we could think of – a lot of goat cheese, avocado, and ice cream. He’s a happy eater now, and every day I am so thankful that he has no lasting fear of food. All the focus on his weight, however, caused us to stop thinking as much about his birth injury. But because of the stroke, Bodhi has hemiplegic cerebral palsy on the left side of his body. It’s mostly affected his left hand and arm. Starting at 9 months, we started more intensive therapy for “leftie.” We just finished our first round of CIMT (constraint-induced movement therapy), in which his good arm was put in a cast for three weeks to help “wake up” his left side. We’ve seen a ton of progress and we’ll continue CIMT every few months for the next few years. We're told to believe in the incredible plasticity of the brain. In spite of all he’s been through, Bodhi is the happiest child. He’s curious, silly, and determined to do all the things he wants to do. I am in awe of him.
So, my postpartum experience has been nonstop. I feel like I have just come up for air in the last few months. I survived all of this in no small part because of a husband who is not just “supportive,” but committed to an equal partnership, in both the emotional and physical work of raising a human. I also survived because of my therapist who immediately told me “you have PTSD” and normalized everything I was feeling.
What is your truth that you'd pass along to your former self, or a new parent?
You are stronger than you know. Trust yourself. A support network is everything.
Why did you choose to participate in this movement and share your story?
I was so sick of the postpartum narratives being fed to me by the media. “Fit into your old jeans in six weeks!” “Messy hair, don't care!” I didn't recognize myself in any of them. When I discovered this movement, I felt such relief. I devoured the stories, reading about people with all sorts of bodies and experiences. I felt seen. I want other people who have been through a similar traumatic beginning to parenthood to read my story and feel a little less alone.
