Prenatal
I learned I was pregnant while navigating a career change and a move. In April, I started a new job at a start-up, and by June, I discovered I was expecting. I simultaneously was clearing my home in Phoenix to relocate to Los Angeles.
Eager to ensure both my baby and I were healthy, I booked an appointment with an OB-GYN in early July, but it was canceled. Afterward, I visited an independent ultrasound clinic, where I confirmed my pregnancy.
Without immediate family or close friends in LA, I decided to work with a doula—a non-medical professional who offers emotional and physical support during pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum.
I also became interested in birthing centers and midwifery. I interviewed midwives at my hospital and two birthing centers in LA. My preference for the birthing centers was made impractical due to logistics—long drive times. Ultimately, I felt resigned to using the hospital system, despite my preference for a different experience.
This process revealed to me the systemic control hospitals have over birthing access.
Birthing Plan
With my doula’s support, I created a birth plan that helped guide her advocacy, though things didn’t go exactly as expected. My son arrived three weeks early, defying the first-time mom stereotype.
My husband, Anthony, who travels for work, and I only completed a quarter of our online birthing classes. I also didn’t finish the videos my doula provided.
Throughout my pregnancy, I had ongoing low back pain, requiring weekly chiropractic visits. By the time labor began, the back pain was intense, but I didn’t realize I was in labor. On the day I gave birth, I worked and saw the chiropractor, pushing through the pain and discovering I had a higher pain tolerance than I thought.
Birth
After taking the afternoon off from work, I reached a point where I couldn’t stand unassisted, and I knew something was happening. My doula arrived, thinking it was just a check-in, but soon had me track my contractions on an app. I called Anthony, who was in Seattle for work, and he booked the next flight back to LA.
While my doula went to grab her hospital bag and get groceries for me, the app suggested I head to the hospital. I labored alone in my living room, on my hands and knees on a yoga mat. When she returned, she made me dinner, brought tea and snacks, and tried to provide counterpressure during breaks from cooking. My labor playlist played in the background, and the atmosphere felt real.
As I entered transitional labor, I became louder and more vocal. My doula called the hospital to let them know we were on our way. We packed up and walked from my 5th-floor apartment to the car, where I had two contractions on the way. The drive to the hospital felt endless, and I held myself up in the car as the baby crowned.
When we arrived at the hospital valet, my water broke as I opened the door. Valet wheeled me to L&D, where nurses swarmed, pulling off my clothes during contractions and shouting that I was 10 cm. Three pushes later, baby Kai was born, wailing and peeing outside the womb. Despite the intensity, I kept thinking, I need to hold you in until your dad gets here. Anthony joined us an hour later.
Feeding
I thought I was as prepared as possible, but I missed signs of labor for days and didn’t fully understand my body. Despite intense pain, I focused on my baby, trying to wake him to feed. A night nurse told me to rest, saying he was too sleepy to feed.
Breastfeeding was difficult from the start. Two lactation consultants visited, but their conflicting approaches left me feeling like a failure, and I cried after each session. This led to sore, scabbed nipples as I tried to push through the pain. Our pediatrician prescribed ointment for healing and gave us formula to feed our 5-day-old son, who was losing weight. Though weight loss is common, as a first-time mom, I felt like I couldn’t do the one thing essential for my baby’s survival—feed him.
I saw a lactation consultant multiple times that week, focusing on feeding, weighing, and boosting milk production. I began pumping after each session, but I was given the wrong instructions, making the extra work ineffective. Still not producing enough milk, I relied on formula daily. The cycle of breastfeeding, pumping, and bottle-feeding—called "triple feeding"—left me mentally and physically exhausted, always focused on the next feeding session.
Postpartum & what helped
What helped me get through the toughest time of my life—the days following birth—was my doula, my angel on earth. Once she shifted to postpartum support, she grocery shopped, meal-prepped, and helped with laundry, cleaning, and even my hair, all during overnight shifts from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. She gave me a much-needed 4-hour stretch of sleep while watching the baby, and though I was obsessed with my milk supply, her encouragement to rest was invaluable. Those weekly visits were my main reprieve.
When I had an emotional breakdown, crying hysterically for hours and feeling unsupported by Anthony, I called her. She rearranged her schedule to be there, reassuring me I could call anytime. The support of a doula is crucial for a mama’s mental health and healing, and this care is the foundation of a healthy family. I urge all mamas to invest in a doula for both prenatal and postpartum support—ideally the same one.
During this time, my husband researched formulas, and after more reading, we chose Bobbie, which had been on my radar during pregnancy. I stopped breastfeeding at four months, and it was life changing.
