Abby Rosenbaum

Abby Rosenbaum (38 - she/her), Mabel (5) and Julian (3 months)

Ann Arbor, MI

Abby is a previous project participant, you can view her photo and story from 2016 here.

“I had an abortion at age 16. It was a (obviously) an unplanned pregnancy - I'd barely been penetrated and actually still considered myself a virgin! So of course I was shocked to discover I was pregnant, especially as I was due to leave on a semester abroad program in just a few weeks. I am grateful I had supportive parents and safe access, and I have NEVER regretted that abortion. It allowed me to go to college, start a career, and, yes, become a mother when the time was right. I think it's important that women talk about their abortions. There's so much shame and stigma which is crazy when you think about how many women have them. Now more than ever, it's important to share our stories and fight to preserve access.”

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

Body image is an ongoing struggle. I am grateful that my body gave me my children, but I've definitely had a hard time accepting my loose stomach and larger weight. So many women in my circle seem to have "bounced back" to thin bodies/flat stomachs very quickly postpartum, and it's hard to not compare. There's a lot of idealized imagery out there when it comes to mothers' bodies. I hate that it's such an issue for me, as a smart, progressive feminist who is body positive. I am working to extend that same grace to myself.

What was your postpartum experience?

I had two very different postpartum experiences. With Mabel, I was completely traumatized, not only by a difficult labor that ended with an unplanned cesarian, but also by the whole transition to parenthood. I was utterly unprepared for how challenging breastfeeding would be, and suffered through a month of cracked, bleeding nipples. I was (and still am!) so in love with my daughter, but when I look back on that time, I remember an overwhelming feeling of sadness and isolation. I can see now how depressed I was. I also went back to work at just 8 weeks postpartum, which was too soon, both physically and emotionally. With Julian, it's been a completely different experience. I did struggle with some pretty serious perinatal depression during my pregnancy, but I went on meds in my third trimester and they helped immensely. My immediate postpartum experience was amazing - the happiest I've ever been. I had a successful unmedicated VBAC was was tremendously healing. Nursing got off to a much smoother start and I've enjoyed it so much more. Of course there have been difficult moments, but overall it's been such a wonderful time. Julian is a dream baby. We are now at 3 months postpartum, and while my mood is beginning to come back down to earth, we are still in a pretty great place.

What is your truth?

With sleep, all things are possible. don't abandon your self-care for your baby, taking care of yourself will make you a better parent. Also, hang in there, because it all gets easier.

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

I participated in the project after I had Mabel, and I treasure the images. I also think it's just so important for women to gather and share their experiences around birth and motherhood. Modern motherhood can be so isolating. As I talked about above, there's a lot of idealized imagery out there about women and mother's bodies. I've always loved this project for the diversity of bodies profiled. It's affirming to see bodies that look like mine.

Sarah Meier

Sarah Meier (28 - she/her) and Kajsa (4.5)

Ann Arbor, MI

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

As an athlete, I try to view and appreciate my body for the awesome things it can do, rather than valuing or devaluing it according to my culturally influenced view of how it looks. The key word here is ‘try’. I have inhabited every space on the spectrum between appreciation to disdain for my body, and parenthood took this dialogue to an entirely new level.

I didn’t plan to become pregnant, so I didn’t experience that liminal space between the decision to pursue a pregnancy and its biological onset. I didn’t spend weeks or months imagining, and thus making real and adjusting to, the embodiment of a pregnancy or the identity of a longed-for child. The changes that I soon saw in my body had never previously existed in my imagination. They were jarring and unsettling. I swam in guilt as I recognized that my healthy pregnancy was simultaneously a cause for celebration and mourning. From my shell-shocked, unsupported perspective, I was losing my body as I knew it, and I was losing my existing sense of self. I felt so detached from the machine of my body. My baby wasn’t yet real in my mind and I couldn’t see the gift I had been given. I didn’t recognize how precious and grounding those thirty-some weeks could have been.

Four and a half years later, I am incredibly grateful for my body and for the changes it went through. I am absolutely astounded by the things that it has done— the things it still does— the things it will do. I grew my daughter, my best friend, from a single cell to a thriving infant solely with the nourishment that my body drew and transmitted to her. I was able to breastfeed her into toddlerhood, and today I am joyous at the strength in my body which allows me to run to her and lift her above my head as we reunite after a day at preschool or several days with her father.

My body is still a machine. It operates, creating and sustaining, completely under the surface of my consciousness. But, it is also more than that. My body is a home— not only mine, but hers. From my womb to my arms, I hope that she will always find shelter, peace, and unconditional acceptance with me. I once mourned the loss of my singularity within my body. Now, I see that it’s true: my body will never again be solely my own. I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

What was your postpartum experience?

My reality shifted into place when I felt my child’s cheek against my own in the moments after her birth. All of the best parts of me: the protector, the nurturer, the observer— became highlighted as I navigated the unpredictable waters of new parenthood. But, so too did my ghosts and sharper edges: unresolved developmental trauma, relentless and piercing anxiety, absolute codependence on the people who were actively harming me.

In the first year of my daughter’s life, I was awestruck. I couldn’t get over her existence or perfection, or the speed and tragic beauty of her swift growth into a toddler. My fixation on her situated my own internal struggles to the peripheral. I was happy to leave them there. It took two and a half years for these essential battles to move into perspective. After ending my relationship with my daughter’s father, I started to attend therapy. Slowly, I realized that I was there not only to figure out how to navigate a coparenting relationship, but to confront my traumas and to learn about myself as a human, a mother, a survivor. Somewhere around this point in time, my postpartum journey’s trademarks shifted from desperate love and confused shame to mindful exploration and unwavering presence— with my daughter and with myself.

It’s hard for me to tap into those first few months of postpartum life now. When I think about myself sitting with my infant daughter, I want so badly to enter the scene, to hold and protect both of us. I needed love and unconditional acceptance so desperately in those first years. I was drawing and giving both to my daughter from an unknown source, and I myself was alone and depleted. I was in love and surviving for her, but I was suffering so deeply that I couldn’t see the source of the pain.

My postpartum journey was paved with a ridiculous love, a stubborn endurance, and an unspoken dream of something better for my child. I think back to the pain I felt in the scar of my cesarean incision; the unsettled feeling of my organs shifting back into place— and I see with clarity the metaphor that this serves for my unquiet struggle as a postpartum mother. My movements were inhibited by a subconscious guarding from pain. I was unfamiliar with all that was inside and around me.

The recovery in my mind did not carry on in biological rhythm as the recovery of my body did. It has taken an immense amount of energy and trustful leaning on new sources of support— from my loving partner, from my sister, from my therapist, from my self— to begin to heal my postpartum mind. As its scars smooth over, I am able to bask in a presence with my daughter that was once clouded by shadows and ghosts. I see her so clearly. I am beginning to see myself more clearly, too.

What is your truth?

Learning to parent without a blueprint— or with a noxious blueprint— is an incredible task. You can do it. You can break the intergenerational cycles that harmed you. You can parent guided by love, gentleness, and by a true, deep sense of seeing and knowing your child. In doing so, you might start to see yourself more clearly; you might be gentler with yourself; you might learn to love yourself in a way that wasn’t accessible to you before. It will be so. fucking. exhausting. You will slip up. You will knee-jerk parent in ways that scare you. And you’ll learn from it. You will create a painfully beautiful, textured, deep relational unit that is enhanced by your enduring love and by your arduous past. Everything that you need in order to rewrite narratives of trauma, abuse, and pain; to love fiercely and endlessly; to be all that your child needs— already exists inside of you.

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

Seeing and living the integration of body and mind is an essential value to me personally, relationally, and professionally. I see this project as a true representation of that. The postpartum experience is embodied and cerebral, and this collection of photographs and stories captures that truth. Truthfully, that is why I am here: to capture a moment. A moment in time with my child and the dynamic, vital energy between us. The softness of her face and the vibrancy of her character. A moment in time with myself at this stage of becoming a more conscious human. I will value these images dearly as we continue to evolve together.

Paula Elizabeth Esteva Slack

Paula Elizabeth Esteva Slack (28 - she/her) and Romero (10 months)

Ann Arbor, MI

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

Parenthood has empowered me and shown me my own strength. Being able to carry a 20+ lb baby all day while juggling everything else it takes to be a mother, wife, student, nurse and woman has only proven this to me. While others have tried to shame me into covering up while nursing, the freedom and love I feel with my son eliminates their negativity.

What is your truth?

You and your baby were, are, and will always be a part of you. Listen to yourself!

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

I came for female empowerment, overcoming obstacles, and antiquated ideologies.

Nicole Haley

Nicole Haley (36 - she/her), Oliver (4) and Will (1)

Ann Arbor, MI

“I had two miscarriages, which made each of my boys rainbow babies. The first, before Oliver, was at six weeks. It was scary because I had no idea what it meant for future childbearing. I felt like a statistic and, looking back, I think I had a very hard time believing it was really happening to me. I had another miscarriage when we were trying to get pregnant with my second son, Will. That one was at nine weeks and, while still hard, I knew this did not mean I would never get pregnant again. I also had Oliver to focus on so I was able to move on much faster, maybe easier. I do still wonder who those babies might have been though.”

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

During my pregnancy with Oliver, I felt like a badass. I was the strongest I'd ever been leading up to that pregnancy and I worked hard to carry that through pregnancy, assuming it would help me in childbirth. I felt wonderful, strong, connected to the baby inside of me, and nervous but excited to experience childbirth. After Oliver was born, I was so proud of my body. I continued to feel strong long after. After having the second miscarriage and becoming pregnant with Will, I was heavier than I would have liked and was not quite as confident in my body because I wasn't putting in as much work as I had the time to do when I was pregnant with Oliver. After Will was born, though, I was proud of my body and in awe of it and I continue to be thankful that I was able to sustain him for so long while we nursed. Today, I am trying to get back to feeling strong, confident, and like a badass. It's not about the numbers to me but I just want that feeling back - like I can do *anything* in this body. I do feel kinder about bodies in general though. They are amazing vessels and as long as we feel comfortable in our skin, that is enough.

What was your postpartum experience?

Why did no one warn me about hemorrhoids?! That's all I could think after the birth of my first son. My whole body felt strong and fine until the hemorrhoids kicked in and I became useless sitting, standing, laying or breathing. So I was prepared with that knowledge the second time around.

Postpartum after my first son was hard. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea how to feed my son (even though I'd taken all of the classes and seen many lactation consultants). I had not a clue what was going on and, really, even forgot that the outside world existed as I tried to keep him growing. He was diagnosed as "failure to thrive" due to his poor growth which was a major stressor and, really, a game changer for my postpartum time and the year(s) that followed. I did not adjust well to parenthood and really didn't start coming out of the "fog" until about five months postpartum.

With my second son, I knew more about what to expect and came armed with the realization that I could basically control nothing. The physical recovery was tough the second time too but I was much better able to soak him in and enjoy his newborn phase. Thankfully, his growth was on track and I could just relax and enjoy it all. This time, and because of having an older child, I was able to jump back into life much faster. I felt happy to have my sweet boys and to never have to live through postpartum hemorrhoids again!

What is your truth?

That you can't control everything. As much as you plan to do one thing, a lot of it is up to your baby. I was hellbent on breastfeeding my first son but, due to his diagnosis as failure to thrive, it just didn't go the way I wanted. I thought I could pump my way out of it and probably missed out on a lot of bonding time with him as I set him down to pump. It's good to be prepared and have a plan...but get ready to make adjustments the second they're born.

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

Women focus so much on *getting* pregnant and having a baby. But it seems like we often forget to focus on what comes next, what we'll have to deal with emotionally, logistically, and physically. I love this project for shining some light on the other side of birth. I wanted to participate so I could add a voice in spreading what this time was like in hopes it helps someone else.

britt hueter

britt hueter (34 - she/her), Josephine (3) Samuel (20 months)

Ann Arbor, MI

“Our first pregnancy resulted in a miscarriage just shy of 10 weeks. I remember it like it was yesterday. My husband and I got into a huge fight just two days before it happened. I woke up a couple days later and was bleeding. I spent two days on the couch praying to whoever might be listening to not let this be the end. But it was. The most difficult part to heal from was this idea in my mind that this baby I had waited for and wanted so badly got flushed down a toilet like it never even happened. But eventually I was able to reframe those thoughts and find peace in the miscarriage. When we got to the day that that baby would have been born and realized how frantic and frazzled everything was, I remember feeling a wave of relief that a baby wasn’t thrown into the mix of everything that was going on in our careers and our marriage. I also remember feeling overwhelmed with the weird and wild thought that when we got pregnant again (with Jo) that it was her that we “lost” the first time, only she knew that we weren’t quite ready for her arrival so she waited a few months longer. I know that sounds absolutely insane, but my pregnancy with her felt familiar in an impossible sort of way. Or maybe that’s just the story I sold myself as a means of surviving the painful loss? How do we ever know?

How has parenthood impacted your body image?
I fell in love with my body for the first time after I gave birth, and the arrival of our second child took it up a notch even more. It was hard to grapple with because society kept telling me that I was supposed to hate my body. That I was supposed to mourn the squish and sagging skin and stretched out belly button that would never again look the same. But I loved it. Giving birth changed me and the way I saw my body forever. And in finding that love for my physical body, it allowed me to stretch my mind about loving myself beyond just the physical. I’ve never been more comfortable in my skin in my whole life.

What was your postpartum experience?

I thought of myself as weak before I became a mother. I whined over such things like mosquito bites and paper cuts. I never referred to myself as strong, and was never able to accept any sort of compliment from anyone. In fact, I was convinced that almost everyone in my life was lying to me anytime they said anything kind. I didn’t think my husband saw me as a strong woman, and I felt this almost desperate desire to prove that I could do something I didn’t think I could do. That desire changed the course of my life in ways I never imagined— I had two totally unmedicated childbirths that wound up being the greatest lessons of patience and strength I’ve ever experienced. I was most caught off guard by how primal childbirth is. The noises we make without trying, the way our bodies do things if we just trust and listen to them. They tell us everything we need to know if we believe in ourselves enough to listen.

I gave birth on my hands and knees, and the second time I actually delivered my son myself with the assistance of our midwife holding me up for balance. My son’s eyes were open as I pulled him out and I’ll never forget that split second moment where we saw each other for the first time. I remember feeling absolutely petrified of childbirth, and it’s funny to me that now I wish I could birth babies for the rest of my life. Adjustment? Oy vey. That first year at home with newborn babies is a trip. Engorged breasts, stitches, hemorrhoids, a bad latch, no sleep, and the tethered feeling... I spent so much time preparing myself for birth, when really what I needed was to be more prepared for everything that was to follow. After our daughter was born, I became a certified Doula because I felt like women needed and deserved more information and support from women who have been there. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to pursue that passion as I’d wished, but I feel like that part of my story just hasn’t been written yet.

What is your truth?

My truth is that women are the most magnificent creatures on earth. We aren’t supported or educated enough in what we’re capable of, and we deserve better. We deserve more. We deserve support.

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

I just believe in women so much, and I support any community or movement that puts women in the light that they deserve. I believe in crushing these old ideas and making sure that I am part of making the world a different place for the future generations. I feel it is the most important duty of my motherhood— to fight like hell for a better future for all people, especially a better future for women.

Johanna Macaulay

Johanna Macaulay (34 - she/her), mother to Gwendolyn (22 months) and Gabrielle, born sleeping in 2009

Portland, OR

“I first became a mother ten years ago when my daughter Gabrielle was born sleeping at 25 weeks after I developed HELLP syndrome. I did not know I was pregnant until I was in the emergency room in liver failure, and she was already gone. The experience of learning that I was pregnant, hearing that they could not find a heartbeat and then quickly being induced because I was so sick was a blur. It took me years to fully process the shock and the immense guilt I was buried in. I felt so disconnected from my body after not realizing that I was pregnant and angry that my body had failed me and my baby. I was scared that I would never have a healthy pregnancy and baby. It was surreal identifying as a mother but not having my child with me. Even now I have a hard time answering when someone asks me how many children I have.

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

I spent a long time hating my body, sometimes for how it looked and other times for how I felt it betrayed me. My second pregnancy was both joyful and scary for my husband and me. We were elated to be expecting our rainbow baby 8 years after our loss but the whole pregnancy had us holding our breath and expecting something to go wrong. Instead our big, healthy girl arrived just hours into her due date. I had the unmedicated birth I had always dreamed of and couldn't believe that my body had grown this perfect little human. Pushing her into the world made me feel stronger and more powerful than anything I've ever done. I'm still amazed looking at her and knowing that my body made that person. I hated my belly for a long time but have grown to love it knowing that it was her first home and still her favorite place to snuggle. Instead of focusing on all of the things that my body is not, parenthood allows me to appreciate all the things that it is.

What was your postpartum experience?

One of the hardest parts of my first year as Gwennie's mom was struggling with breastfeeding. As a NICU nurse and lactation consultant I assumed that I had all the knowledge and tools I would need to breastfeed my baby and was blindsided by the obstacles we faced. Our early days were spent shuttling from home to the doctors office for weight and bilirubin checks and trying everything I could think of to increase my milk supply. It was rough to be on the other side of the relationship as the exhausted, worried parent. I felt like my body was failing me all over again not being able to feed my baby. Thankfully we were blessed with donor breast milk from our amazing community, which eased my stress about having to supplement. Eventually we found a rhythm of breastfeeding and bottle feeding and I let go of my obsessive attempts to increase supply and learned to be proud of every drop I could give her. I also learned to love everything that breastfeeding can be that has nothing to do with nutrition. Nearly two years later it's still how we reconnect after I've been working a lot, how I soothe her when she's hurt or tired or anxious, and that moment when she still feels like my little baby.

What is your truth?

It gets easier and it gets harder. I'm still in the early days of raising a child but have already learned that whatever is hard today will get easier eventually. I also know that there are things that will get harder that I don't even realize yet. It makes me live in the moment more and appreciate the things that are good right now.

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

I've admired this project since its start and always wondered if I would be brave enough to share my body and my story. Now that I'm raising a daughter, I'm trying hard not to pass on the negative feelings I had about my body growing up. These photos are part of the example I'm trying to set for her to love the body that carries her through life and to appreciate everything that she can do.

Heather Griffin

Heather Griffin (38 - she/her). Mother to Kinsey June (stillborn) photographed in the third trimester with her second baby.

Portland, OR

“I had an abortion when I was 20 years old on Sept 11th, 2001. It was understandably a very hard day, but the hardest part has been the fact that there’s been so many reminders of that day over the years. Not that I would ever forget the day it happened, but because it was such a significant day to so many others, it’s brought up in a lot of situations where I don’t even expect it. I don’t doubt that I made the right decision for me, but that doesn’t make it any easier to think about it so often

I also had a daughter (Kinsey June) who was stillborn at 26 weeks in November, 2017. My wife and I had been wanting a child for a very long time (we’d been together 9 years at that point) and it was a devastating loss. To be perfectly honest, it almost broke us. Luckily, with a lot of therapy, we were able to reconnect and eventually start trying again for another child. It took almost a year of trying and a lot of IUIs for me to finally get pregnant again.”

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

Despite being thin most of my life, I’ve struggled with body image issues most of my adulthood. After suffering a loss and being so far along in that pregnancy, I found it hard to lose the weight that I had gained during that time. I was understandably depressed and it’s hard to be motivated to do much when you’re depressed, let alone lose weight. So when I started this pregnancy, I was at a higher weight than I normally was used to. I’ve also gained more than is “recommended” during pregnancy and that’s something that I’ve been struggling with as well. But I know I don’t want to pass on the same issues with body image that my mom passed onto me, so I’m trying to retrain my brain on how I think about my body and myself and focus more on how I feel rather than a number on a scale.

What was your postpartum experience?

Because my postpartum journey was after a loss, it’s hard to know if I had PPD or just general depression. It was hard for me to do much of anything for the first month after we lost her. After that, I decided to go back to work. I’m a nanny, and I honestly missed the kiddos I nannied for. The families I worked with were great and were able to give me limited hours at the beginning to kind of ease me back into it. But I still was struggling and had a lot of self destructive habits that I slid back into. Therapy helped me so much and I’m thankful that I had the means to go to therapy to help me.

What is your truth?

Nothing is a given. Be grateful for every moment you have with your child.

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

My friend (and fellow loss mom) participated in this a few years ago and found it to be very therapeutic and empowering. I’ve been wanting to participate since then, but also wanted to wait until I was in a better head space to participate.

Lisa Sauvé

Lisa Sauvé (33 - she/her) and Amy (13)

Ann Arbor, MI

“I lost the experience of pregnancy. Let me explain, I am a birth parent but told no one about my pregnancy. I mentally blocked it out myself along with not telling anyone else. If I couldn't consider my own thoughts on the situation I definitely didn't want to hear anyone else's. Compartmentalization. I kept it to myself, only her dad knew. Keeping the pregnancy wasn't a pro-life decision, it was a non-decision from I think paralyzing fear to make a decision. We barely talked about it until the inevitable and I went into labor. No prenatal care. The 3 trimester was winter, so oversized sweaters. I was small enough they camouflaged pretty well. Enough that we spent the entire day at my parents house on Christmas and they didn't notice (Amy was born January 18). When I finally went to the hospital in labor, the doctor felt my stomach and suggested the baby might be 4 lbs since I was so small. She was born 8 lbs 7 oz.”

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

As a mother to a daughter, I think before I speak, and tell myself the truths I tell her as much as I can. She's beautiful and healthy, and so am I. The idea of my body now though is much more about fitness than image. I can start to feel aging and want to be able to experience life and the world with Amy for as long as possible, meaning I need to ensure my body can climb and hike and explore for many years to come.

What was your postpartum experience?

Postpartum was the first time I allowed myself to consider motherhood. In the hours after our daughter was born, she was named "Baby A" on adoption papers, before we withdrew them and decided we would take the chance and do this thing. Baby A, with a quick suggestion of "Amy" from her dad, became just that, our Amy. That's when we started to tell people, the afternoon of her birth that we had a baby, not that we were having a baby.

Happy birthday to my dad, who turned 49 the day Amy was born, so when I called my mom to tell her it was definitely a double shock of coincidence and surprise. What a surprise birthday present, to become a grandfather!

Telling my grandma she is a "great grandma", she thought she was being told she was a "great" grandma as a compliment, not fact. She was nothing but delighted when we clarified the miscommunication. (Amy loves this part of the story)

Being 19, my body bounced back quickly. When friends and family came to visit in the coming days they remarked that I couldn't have had the baby because of my trim figure, which was a reflection of my trim pregnancy. I healed quickly and my shape didn't change much.

What is your truth?

From the inevitable and the necessary comes opportunity and inspiration.

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

Friends, knowing my story and urging me to share. Capturing a moment with my daughter where her is closer to the age I gave birth than mine and that I'm proud of her and though it was a silent pregnancy, I was never ashamed.

Raquelle Petersen

Raquelle Petersen (27) and Juniper (22 months)

Portland, OR

“When I was nineteen I became pregnant with someone I barely knew. It was a terrifying/surreal feeling when I found out, and even more surreal when I had a miscarriage one week later. I grew up in a religious household and a very conservative/religious culture in general so I knew nothing about my body and felt so much shame. The doctors/nurses who I encountered during this ordeal didn’t treat me like a human being worthy of good healthcare because I was so young and unmarried. I wish I could go back in time and stand up for myself and demand better care. It was an incredibly lonely and sad experience, albeit relieving because I was in no way ready to raise a child, basically being one myself.”

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

I have always had what people call a “little boy” shaped body. Very flat chested and straight. I tried not to let it bother me too much but after going through pregnancy and the postpartum period (which in my opinion is the rest of your life after carrying/birthing a child) I have learned to love and adore my body so much. My chest is still just as flat, and I have cellulite and stretch marks in places I didn’t think possible. And I am grateful for every dimple, line, and stripe. This flat chest proudly and wonderfully fed my beautiful baby for 19 months, this soft tummy carried and formed every detail of her lovely face and body. I am so grateful to my body for being so strong and capable.

What was your postpartum experience?

As many parents can probably agree with, the first couple of months of parenthood were a complete blur. I barely remember any of it. I remember being scared all of the time and thinking something was wrong with me because I was so far from the person I used to be. I started talk therapy for postpartum anxiety and it helped immensely. I found a fun group on meet up, and have since made some really great friends who are also mothers. But I’ve realized more and more along the way that the system to support new parents is completely broken/almost non-existent. I decided to train as a Postpartum Doula because I want to be for others what I needed in those early days. My child also has always had difficulty sleeping, and although the sleep deprivation was (is) hard, it was much harder dealing with these ridiculous societal “norms” (which are not normal at all, by the way) that say our child should be sleeping through the night by no later than six months, not be rocked to sleep, and not be nursing during the night after a certain age, etc. etc. Unless you decide that’s what your child and family needs, it’s bullshit. I am so glad to have moved away from the norms of other kiddos and just focus on what’s normal for us.

What is your truth?

Your old self is gone. You will become yourself again, but it is a different person than you once knew. Give yourself time, and ask for help. This new person that you are is incredible, intuitive, capable and strong. (And still lots of fun!)
Why did you choose to participate in this movement and share your story?

I’ve followed 4TBP on Instagram for about a year now and I absolutely love reading all the stories and seeing all of the beautiful people who participate. I am incredibly nervous but really grateful to be apart of such an enlightening and empowering movement.

Shmoo Zissou

Shmoo Zissou (27 - they/them), Mars (2) Canute (1 week)

Portland, OR

How has parenthood impacted your body image?

I have always had a negative image of my body, both because of pain/frequent illness/feeling like it fails me, and because of the unhealthy rhetoric in my home as a child surrounding mine and others bodies. After becoming pregnant the first time, I was sure my body would struggle to do what it was supposed to and I was constantly stressed about making it through without my body failing me and Mars. My body did make it through really well, and it made it through my pregnancy with Canute. I consequently I have a much greater appreciation for its successes and abilities. I also don't want my children to have remotely the same experiences with their bodies and self-image as I did, and so we have a very open, sex-positive, autonomous, consent-is-mandatory environment in our home. Because of this I feel like it forces me to change my perspective, not just my words, and this has also helped with my own acceptance for my body over time.

What was your postpartum experience?

I have sensory processing disorder and a lot of childhood trauma and don't handle pregnancy well. It feels like a buildup of physical and emotional struggles that come to a breaking point by the time I give birth, and that the relief I imagine the postpartum period to be takes a lot more actual effort and time to achieve. After having Mars I had PPD and PPA and learned that I needed a lot more support and had to work a lot harder on loving, improving, and forgiving myself than expected. When I found out I was pregnant with Canute I was initially very excited, and then became very depressed and scared of going through with the pregnancy and postpartum period and decided to get an abortion. My partner was very supportive of whatever I chose and with that support, along with therapy and a med change, I eventually decided that I wanted to go through with the pregnancy. Even though I didn't end up getting an abortion, I am very grateful that it was an option and was ultimately my decision.

My pregnancy with Canute was difficult as expected. What I didn't expect was how traumatic their birth would be. I opted for a hospital water birth with midwives, but they came within 30 minutes of active labor and 2 minutes of pushing and there wasn't time to fill the tub or receive any pain management options. The sudden escalation and pain from back labor triggered my PTSD and it was honestly a horrible experience. The recovery so far has been much harder and more painful than with Mars as well. Despite all of that I am so grateful that they're here and that I made the decisions I did, even though not everything went well. Having supports and plans in place has been vital for me in starting my second postpartum journey.

What is your truth?

That everyone is deserving of love and support, and to make an effort to give both to yourself and others and to seek it out if you need it.

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

I came here today as an openly autistic and disabled parent, to show up for other autistic parents who may not feel comfortable or aren't able to do so, and to speak towards the validity and value of autistic parenthood. We exist, we struggle sometimes like all parents, we often do parenthood a little differently, and are just as diverse as neurotypical parents in our abilities and how we feel about parenthood. It can be extra difficult for neurodivergent parents to feel community and connection in parenthood, and I feel that neurotypicals should educate themselves with resources provided by autistic and other neurodivergent individuals on the realities of our existences and make efforts to not be ableist and exclusionary.

I also came to show my children that I am proud of who I am as a neurodivergent human, and proud and grateful for my disabled body even though there's both physical and emotional struggles that come with it. That it's okay to struggle and it's okay to be different.