Real Postpartum | Real Reflections in Minneapolis, Minnesota
I’m in disbelief that this sweet babe of mine is just a couple weeks away from turning one years old.
This birthday month, I am finding myself reflecting more and more about all the days, weeks, months since his birth.
As this is our third baby, I came into parenting Cassius with all the wisdom of parenting his brothers. Each baby has taught us different things about growing, nurturing, and keeping a small human safe.
Ultimately, even though this postpartum has been really hard in a lot of ways- I’m so grateful for the growth. Our “hard” definitely still exists, but I feel more grounded in it. I feel more supported and in community with it.
In conversation with a dear client recently, she asked me “what has felt grounding for you postpartum?”. As much as I’d like to say I had an immediate answer with all the ways I’m caring and pouring into myself- it truly made me pause.
Honestly, I can think of two distinct times that I have felt grounded this postpartum.
The first occurred about 2-3 weeks postpartum, after my D&C for retained products of conception (placenta, etc). Up to this point, I was recovering from a birth you can’t really summarize or categorize into one word. There was grief. There was trauma. There was vulnerability and one of the times I’ve had to lean the most on those who love me instead of depending on my strength alone. I was so well loved and cared for during one of the hardest events in my life. I bled too much during birth and had distinct and familiar symptoms of retained products at home over the first couple of weeks (I’ve had retained placenta likely in all 3 of my postpartums). I knew that losing too much blood or retained placenta could permanently impact my body’s ability to have a normal/full milk supply. There was so much anxiety around my safety and “will I be able to feed my baby how I want to?”.
After initial recovery from my D&C, I felt immense relief. My pelvic floor felt completely normal again, like I knew it should. I no longer had the looming feelings of “when will I pass another glob of tissue in the toilet?”. By then it was also very clear my body was going to have no issue producing breastmilk as I had hoped. By some miracle, support of loved ones, and skilled medical care- my body felt safe and grounded again.
The second time I truly felt grounded this postpartum, was just a few months ago. I don’t remember how the conversation steered this way, but while spending quality time with a close friend, I finally said the scary part out loud about Cassius’s early days. She didn’t try to give solutions, she just listened and validated how scary that must have been. Instantly in that moment I felt so held. It softened all the memories and all the tension I had been holding by keeping this all to myself. It gave me the courage to continue talking about and processing it with others close to me.
The first part of early days with Cassius, involved oral ties. I knew that he had them, I was just hoping he would be like Atticus and be able to still effectively feed without causing my body harm. After 2 weeks of gaslighting myself, the nipple pain became un-ignorable. I was able to get him into a pediatric dentist within a few days and got lip, buccal and posterior tongue released. I noticed immediate improvement in my nipple pain- hallelujah. Releasing his ties didn’t fix everything, but it certainly made the nipple pain go away.
The other part of early days with Cassius involved laryngomalacia (unofficially, but also definitely does have). I recognized it immediately with his frequent stridor as he would breastfeed. I remember feeling so frustrated that my big, seemingly healthy newborn was “feeding like a preemie”- his suck-swallow-breathe would become discoordinated, choke, and the color of his skin would turn blue. My NICU nurse self always kicked in, unlatched, repositioned upright, patted his back and helped him recover.
I was afraid that if I said it out loud, then we would have to physically do something about it, then it would be more real. That all the resilience of my body would be for nothing because I would potentially be told it’s not safe to breastfeed Cassius. I didn’t want it to be true and to investigate it, so I just kept it all in and managed it like my NICU nurse self would.
As a NICU nurse, I cared for plenty of babies (usually premature) that had laryngomalacia. As a nurse, I attributed any discoordination while feeding to their prematurity, not necessarily connecting it to laryngomalacia. Now I know, it can be both. Most of the time, laryngomalacia is considered within the realm of normal and babies eventually grow out of it. They reserve the “fix” of surgery for really severe cases. For the babies that also struggle with reflux and discoordinated swallow, they can do a swallow study, which may show that baby is aspirating and would benefit from thicker fluids to swallow more safely. Historically and most commonly, providers then tell parents they need to use formula because that can be thickened more predictably than breastmilk (hence my fear and anxiety around being able to feed my baby breastmilk).
Babies with laryngomalacia often have difficulties with reflux too. Cassius did, but presented differently than how my older two did (they were “happy spitters”). Cassius rarely actually puked, but anytime we tried to lay him flat on his back, I’d hear milk come up and exacerbate his stridor. We coped by taking turns having Cassius sleep prone on our chests, with our bodies semi-reclined in bed. His symptoms were much more manageable in this position, so we did what was working and felt safest for him.
Later on, in my deep dive on the internet about laryngomalacia, I read that these babies have a hard time laying on their back and often do better on their belly (so validating). Technically before Cassius could roll, I intuitively tried having him sleep on his belly to mimic how he had been sleeping on our chest, but in hopes that I could get a break and sleep more comfortably too. He was able to sleep comfortably with less frequent reflux and stridor- that felt like such a win! But also, yet another part of his story that I didn’t feel like I could really say out loud because it didn’t meet the regular safety standards for infant sleep. I tried to remind myself that as a parent, I get to choose what feels safest for my baby and my family and that those guidelines aren’t going to work for every baby or family. When I removed the all the feelings of “should”, I knew in my bones that I was in tune with my baby and finding ways to keep him safe, and that’s the best thing a parent can do.
There was a period of time, that his reflux and laryngomalacia felt like it was getting worse. And it yo-yo’d every time he got sick with another boogery virus. I would be holding him prone, upright in a carrier and he would still reflux and choke and have a hard time. I would be trying to responsively feed him like I always have with all of my babies- but with his oral dysfunction related to ties/laryngomalacia/being sick all of the time, there were several chunks of time that I had to mostly pump and paced-bottle feed him. This way, I could control the flow better for him vs at the breast you can’t beyond laid back or side-lying positioning.
So much of my postpartum was spent in hyper-vigilance- which, with my history of complex PTSD, I’m kind of used to living in this state of being. But when I talked to my dear friend, and finally shared the scary out loud, I was reminded that I don’t have to continue to feel this way. I don’t have to shoulder all of this alone. I can let people hold me, too.
These photos were taken on the other side of all the trapped feelings. I can viscerally feel how at grounded I felt at this time postpartum (8 months). I’m so grateful for the resilience of my mind and body, for the best partner I could possibly have in parenting and life (Nicholas), and for the support of all the ones close to us.
Happy (almost) first birthday, sweet Cassius.
xo, Britt
Photos taken by one of my beloved business partners and friends, Gina.
