Category: Pregnancy and Parenting

Our adventures in fertility, pregnancy, and parenting as a queer couple with trans identities.

Diastasis Recti, Body Image, and Gender

Postpartum recovery is typically portrayed as a rapid return to pre-pregnancy weight and shape. For many people, this is not an accurate representation. Many people never return to pre-pregnancy weight or shape. Some do but have to put in a lot of work to make that happen.

I have a short torso so when I was pregnant, I carried my baby out in front. I started showing early and was very round. I had many stretch marks from early on and still have them. At halfway through my pregnancy people were surprised I still had a while to go. I was asked many times if I was having twins.

At six months postpartum my belly had shrunk somewhat but I still looked about the same size as when I was halfway through my pregnancy. While I knew that the media portrays postpartum recovery inaccurately, this seemed particularly slow. So I tested myself for diastasis recti and found a 3-4 finger gap between my abdominals. This was soon after diagnosed by a physiotherapist.

I started doing specific core exercises and regained my core strength fairly quickly. But at just over nine months postpartum, I still look the same as I did halfway through my pregnancy. While out for a walk with my nine month old baby in the stroller, a stranger congratulated me on the second baby I have on the way.

Having a round, pregnant shaped belly is a difficult experience for me for a number of reasons.

  • No one should ever comment on another person’s body shape, size, or presentation without being invited to do so and yet pregnancy seems to be a socially accepted time to do this. Being perceived as pregnant invites these sorts of comments.
  • In most people’s minds, being seen as someone who is potentially pregnant puts me in the category of ‘female’ or ‘woman’ and negates any other aspects of my presentation that might suggest otherwise. I dealt with this while pregnant for the sake of having my child but was really looking forward to not dealing with this anymore. And here I am, still being perceived as pregnant.
  • While pregnant, having a large belly helped minimize my perception of the size of my chest by comparison. Now that I am no longer pregnant and would like to flatten the appearance of my chest, doing so would only accentuate the size of my belly.
  • In order to heal diastasis recti, I have to avoid slouching. Standing up straight makes my chest look and feel bigger, increasing my dysphoria for the sake of healing my abdominals.

I know that recovery from or healing of diastasis recti is slow and takes diligent work. Being constantly aware of my posture, movement, and muscle activation takes mental effort. Making myself do core exercises daily takes will power. I am trying but I’m not always successful on all fronts. And without noticeable change in my function or shape, it is hard to stay motivated.

In search of answers and community, I recently turned to the internet and social media. I found lots of good information but every single resource used female terms and pronouns throughout. Finding community and support for part of my experience that actively excluded and invalidated other parts was painful, exhausting, and overwhelming.

Here is yet another topic where gender neutral terminology would not exclude or invalidate anyone and yet at every opportunity professionals refer to ‘ladies’ and ‘mama’.

Throughout this whole internal struggle with post partum body image, I have tried to be aware of where my thoughts and feelings are coming from. I avoid and reframe any thoughts I have about my weight. I try not to judge my body in negative ways due it’s size or shape. However, I can’t escape how my shape triggers my dysphoria or interferes with my preferred strategies for managing my dysphoria. And I can’t ignore how others perceive me when they assume I am pregnant.

No two people recover from pregnancy the same way. Don’t make assumptions about other people’s bodies based on their shape, size, or function. Don’t make assumptions about other people based on their bodies. If you are a professional supporting a community, question your use of gendered language. Substitute gender neutral terms and use language referring to a specific experience wherever possible. If this is something you would like help with, please contact me.

Did you struggle with body image after pregnancy? Did you or do you currently have diastasis recti? Leave me a comment below! I’d love to hear from you.

RELATED POSTS

Receive new posts in your inbox! Contact me at any time if you have questions, need support, or are searching for community.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

My First Parental Celebration Days as a New Parent

I recently celebrated my first Nonbinary Parent’s Day and Mother’s Day as a parent so I thought I’d share what those days felt like for me as a nonbinary person.

Some background:

  • I am more comfortable being called a parent than a mother or a mom
  • I identify with parts of ‘mom culture’ but the parts I don’t identify with feel really wrong to me, mostly for gender related reasons
  • My parental term of choice is ‘Mur’ which is a sounded out version of M and R for Meaghan Ray (my name)
  • The majority of people in my life do not yet know about my chosen parental term or my discomfort with the label of mom or mother

NONBINARY PARENT’S DAY

Nonbinary Parent’s Day fell on April 18 this year. I didn’t even know about it until my husband mentioned it a few days early. We didn’t plan anything special, just went about our normal activities. But the day still felt special. I was more in tune with my connection with my baby, more grateful, thankful, and had an sense of inner peace and oneness.

Only a couple people other than my husband knew to wish me happy Nonbinary Parent’s Day the way you would for Mother’s Day or Father’s Day. This wasn’t surprising since I hadn’t even heard about the day until he told me and hadn’t broadcasted it to the world. I did see lots of celebratory photos and posts on social media from other nonbinary parents which gave me a much greater sense of community and connection.

So while celebrating this day felt great personally, it has very little recognition in the wider world as of yet. I’m hoping this will increase in future years. Starting next year, I will be more proactive at letting my friends and family know that this is my preferred parental celebration day.

MOTHER’S DAY

I had no idea how I would feel about celebrating Mother’s Day, or at least being wished a happy Mother’s Day by others. Turns out it was a complicated experience.

I was looking forward to getting to celebrate my first Mother’s Day as a parent alongside celebrating it for my own mom. I was looking forward to the sense of understanding, shared experience, community, and recognition. Turns out that when the title of ‘Mother’ doesn’t sit right, being wished a happy Mother’s Day doesn’t feel great either.

I did some translating self talk every time someone wished me a happy Mother’s Day. Something like – they’re recognizing my new parental role, expressing their understanding of the work that goes into being in the primary parental role that I’m currently in, and I appreciate that. This translation helped a bit but it also took effort.

Every time I was wished a happy Mother’s Day, while I knew it came from a good place, I also knew that it meant that they had overlooked how my gender interacts with my role as a parent. Feeling seen in my new role as a parent and simultaneously invisible in my gender makes for a confusing and isolating experience on a day when I was hoping to feel seen and connected.

A few friends were careful to wish me a happy Parent’s Day or happy Gestational Parent’s Day on Mother’s Day which definitely felt better. These wishes were more personalized and recognized my gender in addition to my parental role but didn’t lead to a feeling of being connected to any community with similar experiences. I let these friends know about Nonbinary Parent’s Day and was wished a happy belated Nonbinary Parent’s Day instead.

For me, celebrating Nonbinary Parent’s Day feels like the right fit. It’ll take a while for my friends and extended family, and especially the wider world, to recognize this annual day but at least we can make a tradition of it in our family of three.

Next year on Mother’s Day, I will try to use a gentle response such as: Thank you, but I celebrate Nonbinary Parent’s Day instead which is the third Sunday in April.

RELATED POSTS

RELATED LINKS

Receive new posts in your inbox so you don’t have to remember to check back!

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Baby Clothes and Gender

Baby clothes are predominantly marketed as being for girls or boys. Even though the babies that wear them are too young to have any concept of gender. Even though clothing isn’t inherently gendered. The only reason for this is so that families that have a second child of a different sex than the first have to buy a whole new set of clothes.

Society has bought into this idea so strongly that a baby’s clothing is often used to indicate their ‘gender’.

This is not something I agree with. I don’t think clothing is inherently gendered. I don’t think we should restrict a child’s clothing based on their sex assigned at birth. And I don’t think clothing is an appropriate way to indicate gender. My goal as a parent is to provide my child with a wide range of clothes, toys, and experiences from all areas of the socially defined gender categories.

We got most of our clothing second hand in one big batch from one family. At the time, they were getting rid of 0-6 month old clothes that were predominantly pink and styled as ‘girl’s clothes’ and 6-12 month old clothes that were predominantly blue and styled as ‘boy’s clothes’. We were given a bunch of neutral and boy style newborn sized clothes so that expanded the range of clothing for the first little while. But since they outgrew the first sizes, we have been predominantly dressing them in ‘boys’ clothes (because that’s what we have).

This has gone against my gender-free/gender-full parenting wishes so I intentionally went shopping for clothes that would fit my baby that were pink and purple, or had flowers and butterflies, or were otherwise more on the ‘girl’ side of the clothing spectrum. I love seeing a variety of clothing in the drawer to choose from.

When I dress my baby to go out for a walk or visit with family, I am conscious of what clothing I put them in and what assumptions people will make or associations people will have as a result. Despite the fact that I don’t feel that clothing has a gender and I don’t think clothing should indicate gender, I’m also aware that the majority of people do hold these beliefs. This forces me to consider the ‘gender’ associated with the clothing I am choosing for my child. And then I find myself thinking of pink as girly and a blue football motif as boyish.

I’m constantly playing this tug of war with myself. I don’t want to think of clothing as gendered. I put my baby in whatever clothes I want the majority of the time. I mix and match and alternate but this gendered thinking still creeps in. I have to constantly remind myself to think of clothing as different styles, colours, and patterns, not different genders.

I also think about what clothes my baby was wearing the last time they visited with a particular person and try to pick something contrasting the next time. Again, I have to remind myself, not something of a different gender, something with a different colour, pattern, or style.

Because, ultimately, baby clothes are not only for the baby, but also for the adults they are interacting with. And by influencing the adults around my baby in subtle ways, I can hopefully maintain a more gender creative and inclusive environment with fewer overt and potentially confrontational conversations.

The internal struggle against gendered thinking is constant. But when I feel the binary veil lift and I can see my baby for who they are as a giggling, food-loving, good-sleeping, commando-crawling 8 month old, I feel more connected and at ease in my role as a parent.

RELATED POSTS

Receive new posts in your inbox!

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Baby Haircuts and Gender

My baby was born with lots of hair. That was always the first thing people commented on. It was dark and long and made them look a bit like a hobbit. At first I loved it. It was cute and made them look like a mini toddler. But when they started squirming and rolling, the hair at the back became matted on a daily basis. Combing it either took over an hour or led to a lot of screaming. So we decided it was time for our baby’s first haircut.

As it turned out, the hair underneath was a lot lighter. The before and after pictures look like completely different babies. It took some getting used to. But it wasn’t just that they looked different. My perception of their gender was also different.

They suddenly looked like a boy.

My general feeling on this is ‘Ugh. Why does my brain have to gender my baby based on their hair?’ But of course, just because I’m nonbinary does not mean I’m immune to the gendered programming I am surrounded by and grew up with.

For me, haircuts are one of the biggest sources of gender euphoria I can reliably get on a semi-regular basis. This is because having my hair short helps me express my masculinity and helps me see my masculine side when I look in the mirror. But just because short hair feels masculinizing for me does not mean that short hair indicates masculinity or male gender for everyone.

Especially babies! Most babies have no hair or very short hair. It was only because I was used to my baby’s longer hair that my brain registered the short hair as a gender indicator.

Then I began to wonder – does everyone automatically gender babies as male because of the short hair unless there is a female indicator such as pink clothes, frills, or a flower headband? Is this one of the reasons why baby clothes are so overly gendered?

In the two weeks since the haircut, with a steady stream of corrective self-talk, the gendering effect has worn off a bit. But regardless, I figure that if some people put flower headbands on their babies, I can too. Creating a genderful experience for my child means using clothing, accessories, toys, and language from all parts of the gender spectrum. It also means doing things to trick my brain out of gendering them based on their sex assigned at birth or their short hair.

What experiences have affected your perception of your baby’s gender? What things do you do to create a genderful experience for your child? Tell me in the comments below!

RELATED POSTS

Receive new posts in your inbox so you don’t have to remember to check back!

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Postpartum Update: 5 Months

We’ve all seen the representations of postpartum people in media who are frustrated with not being able to lose ‘those last five pounds’ when they’re five weeks postpartum. Let me tell you now, this is not reality. At least not for me.

My body did a whole lot more during pregnancy and birth than just put on a few pounds. Therefore, my body finding it’s way to a new, stable normal is not all about losing weight. Maybe I’ll get back to my pre-pregnancy weight, maybe I won’t. But more importantly, what is my body capable of doing and how does it feel?

PHYSICAL ENDURANCE AND MOBILITY

If you followed along with my pregnancy journey, you’ll know that I had severe pelvic and back pain that meant I was using a walker for mobility by week 14. Immediately postpartum I was able to start taking my regular medication and the pain improved quickly. But the impact of six months of limited mobility doesn’t go away over night.

I had a lot of joint stiffness and residual associated pain. I had significant muscle weakness in certain muscle groups (and still do to some extent). And I had extremely limited cardiovascular and muscular endurance.

I have been working on all of these as much as I can (giving the limited extra energy when caring for a baby). Initially I was mostly doing slow easy stretching and gentle movement and short walks. More recently I have done cardio exercise in the form of climbing the stairs while wearing the baby, using my rowing machine, and going for fast paced walks, strengthening exercise while playing with the baby on the floor or using the baby as a weight, and endurance exercise in the form of longer walks at normal pace. I even went skating for the first time today!

Each time I try another activity or try to push myself I come up against a very sudden limit in strength or endurance. I’m going along enjoying the feel of my body moving when suddenly I have no power. My muscles turn to water and my joints cease. I slow down or take a break to stretch, and try to continue. Often I can get a bit more out of my body but at much lower intensity or poorer quality. And that’s ok. That’s just where I’m at. Every bit counts.

Even if I wasn’t trying to improve my strength and endurance, just the act of moving my body and expending positive energy makes me feel less antsy, more patient, happier, and more connected with myself in a positive way.

HORMONE FLUCTUATIONS

At around two and half months postpartum I started having similar symptoms to when I was taking fertility drugs and when I was immediately postpartum. Wooziness, light headed, foggy, weepy, laughter easily becoming hysterics. Yes, apparently this is normal.

There is a hormone shift at 2.5-3.5 months postpartum and again somewhere between 6 and 9 months postpartum. My hormones were taking the next step in leveling out. Ugh. Not looking forward to going through that again but hopefully the next wave of this will be the last.

OTHER SYMPTOMS

  • All birthing trauma has healed (I had nothing severe and no C-section).
  • Despite having low milk supply initially and now decreasing lactation, my period has not yet returned (yay!).
  • I had some increase in hair loss around the time of the hormone shift but nothing extreme and it seems to have leveled out.
  • My belly is still round in a more pregnancy like shape than my typical body shape but is down to about my early second trimester size.
  • I had many many stretch marks that have somewhat faded into a soft, saggy, pouch of excess skin below my belly.

EMOTIONAL EFFECTS

As I am now trying to figure out what being a parent means and often exhausted from caring for my baby, I am definitely not in the same place emotionally as I was pre-pregnancy and never will be and that’s fine. Becoming a parent changes you and I am embracing and navigating that change.

But there are emotional effects from the experience of being pregnant and giving birth that stuck with me for a while. A few weeks postpartum, when the extreme fatigue had worn off a bit, I started having mild panic attacks when I was lying in my bed trying to go to sleep because I would be transported to the moments when I was waiting for another contraction to happen. That lasted for a few nights but, with the help of my husband talking me through it, wore off and hasn’t returned.

Looking back on being pregnant, remembering how it felt, is extremely surreal. Even when I see pictures of myself when I was pregnant. I know that it happened to me, I can remember that it happened, but I have a very hard time actually feeling what it felt like at the time. My body just felt so different than it ever had before and than it does now.

I can remember little things, like what it felt like when my baby had hiccups, what different stages of contractions felt like, and what my baby helping along my contractions felt like. But the overall experience of being pregnant? What it felt like to move around? It is very vague and very surreal. And maybe that’s ok.

So have I ‘recovered’ from being pregnant? No. I don’t even know what that means. Pregnancy doesn’t feel like something I need to recover from. I’m not trying to re-create my pre-pregnancy body. And as debilitating as my pregnancy was, it wasn’t a negative experience.

I am five months postpartum and very happy with what my body is capable of doing these days. I will continue to be curious and fascinated by all the changes just as I was during pregnancy. It is a continuation of the process that began with pregnancy. It did not end at my baby’s birth and will not have reached a conclusion for many months yet. So here’s to the journey.

RELATED POSTS

Receive new posts in your inbox so you don’t have to remember to check back!

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Discovering My Identity as a Parent

Recently, I’ve been thinking about my identity as a parent. Yes, as someone who has a child I am responsible for, I am automatically deemed a parent. But what does that actually mean for me as a person? What does it mean to identify as a parent? How does this new part of my identity mesh or clash with other components of who I am?

As a queer person, I have an understanding that identity is fluid, multifaceted, and individual. I have had the experience of exploring new aspects of my identity as a gay person and as a nonbinary person. In drawing parallels with my new experience as a parent, I had a bit of an ‘aha’ moment that I wanted to share with you.

STAGES OF QUEER IDENTITY DEVELOPMENT

For me, discovering and exploring aspects of my queer identity followed a similar process: from unaware/baseline, to awareness, resistance, exploration, acceptance, immersion, and finally, integration. My process of moving through these stages was different when I was discovering my sexuality vs my gender.

Before figuring out I was gay I was assumed to be straight but really I didn’t have much sense of my own sexuality. Figuring out I was gay involved very little resistance for me because of the liberal environment I was raised in. I went from awareness to exploration to acceptance very quickly. I was still in early high school at that point with little autonomy for accessing the queer community. But as soon as I went to university away from home, I entered the immersion stage and became involved in the queer club, went to all the queer events, hung out with primarily queer friends, and went to queer bars. I always had something rainbow on, hung my rainbow flag on my door, and talked about queerness every chance I got. Over a couple years, this faded to being just one component of my identity (integration).

Figuring out I was nonbinary went through the same stages but at a very different rate. Despite having a gendery experience in high school, I remained unaware of my non-cis gender identity for years after and probably would have said I was a woman. During my husband’s transition I became aware of nonbinary identities and developed an awareness of my own but did not feel like I had the energy to explore it or deal with the consequences that exploration might bring. I remained in the resistance stage for at least two years. By the time I finally got the space and courage to explore my gender, I already knew that I was nonbinary and had accepted it, I just didn’t know what to do about it. So I immersed myself in this part of my identity for six months to a year, figuring out all the different facets of my gender, how to explain it to people, and connecting with a gender diverse group of friends. This has slowly faded to a more integrated level but remains a larger part of my overall identity than being gay did.

The ‘coming out’ process started at different points for these two identities. I came out as gay immediately after the acceptance stage, before immersion. I am still working on coming out as nonbinary despite being somewhere between the immersion and integration stages.

HOW THIS RELATES TO MY IDENTITY AS A PARENT

Because of the external and concrete nature of being a parent, the first couple stages don’t apply as much. I wasn’t a parent, and then, suddenly, I was. However, the process of resistance through to integration is more about the emotional and personal relationship with this new aspect of my identity, so I think it still applies.

So where am I at in the process? At this stage of things, four and a half months in, I’m still not really sure what it means to be a parent. I’ve been resisting my new parental identity because I didn’t want to lose the rest of who I am. If I lose who I am, all my emotions will be tied up in how well I feel like I’m doing as a parent. And since there are many aspects of this parenting thing that I have no control over, that seemed like a dangerous game.

Then I realized that ‘losing who I am’ was part of the process – the immersion stage. I had been too scared of what that would feel like to allow myself to move through the stages of exploring this new identity. Since making this connection, I have quickly moved from exploration to acceptance and, a bit nervously, into immersion.

It definitely feels different to allow myself to become immersed in an aspect of my identity and existence that is so strongly dependent on something external to myself. I feel like I have less control over my exploration process (and therefore, how it will integrate with the rest of my identity in the long run) than I did with the queer aspects of my identity. Add to that the fact that we are in the middle of a global pandemic and therefore have limited access to the social activities and groups that I might engage in as part of the immersion stage.

Needless to say, exploring my identity of being a parent will be different from exploring my queer identities. Regardless, I can’t jump straight from acceptance to integration. But maybe, since the identity of being a parent is a more external one, so too is the immersion process. Who I am internally, all those pieces I have fought to understand and accept, can stay where they are. I’m not going to ignore my experience as a nonbinary person while figuring out what it means to be a parent. I’m going to figure out what it means to be a nonbinary, queer parent.

What stages did you go through in exploring your queer identity? How did you feel in your role as a new parent? Leave me a comment to share your experiences. I’d love to know how you navigated these transformational experiences.

Join my community! Receive new posts in your inbox so you don’t have to remember to check back!

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Childhood Influences on Parenting Experiences

Note: This is the first guest post on the blog! If you listened to Season 1 of Let’s Talk Gender, you’ll have heard Jake talk about his transition. Now you get the first blog post from him. Enjoy!

As trans people, we know that a person’s sex doesn’t dictate their gender and upholding societal expectations of gender would be hurtful to our child’s existence. The gender of the child is especially irrelevant in the early stages of parenting because babies are mostly blobs. As they grow we will help them explore the vast world of gender. Regardless of how our child chooses to present and identify in the future, we will love and support them.

And yet, when we were trying to get pregnant, the question of “are we hoping for a boy or a girl?” still came up. I was hoping slightly more for a boy. I thought that raising a girl and trying to build up her confidence against a misogynistic world would be harder than teaching a boy about privilege.

I was beyond thrilled when our 10 week blood test came back with no abnormal chromosomal conditions and that we would be having a boy. I felt that I could vicariously live through his “male” childhood since I didn’t get to have one myself.

This is not fair to him. It is his childhood, not mine. Even by virtue of who his parents are, his childhood will be completely different from mine. However, this reaction, and the subsequent un-learning, has lead to a lot of reflection.

HOW MY PARENTS GENDERED ME

My mother had me at 19, and whether it was a function of her age, because it was the 80’s, or because of who she is as a person, she let us do what we wanted. My sister and I played with what we wanted, where we wanted, and wore what we wanted. My mom’s easy-going approach was a big reason why it took so long for me to realize I was trans (but more on that in a different post).

My father, however, was 8 years older and grew up in a military house. He always said that he wanted to make his love apparent to us since he didn’t feel it much from his parents when he was growing up, but he was much more strict about what was expected from us, including enforcing societal views on how we should be acting as girls.

RAISING ‘BOYS’

My parents divorced and remarried and my dad had another child who is now 7 years old. My dad has mellowed with age and perhaps a marriage that is more his style, and mentions frequently that he regrets how he raised us, that he was too strict, and wishes he let us express more of who we were.

In watching my dad interact with his young son, I am amazed at how lenient he is with him. Maybe my dad has become more easy-going, as he says, or maybe he is more willing to let his son do what he wants because “boys will be boys.” My dad has mentioned that his son is “all boy” in the way he interacts – he is rough and boisterous and doesn’t like to follow instructions. He has also said he wants to take good care of his health because “it is clear to him that my son will need a strong male role model” in his life. These are not phrases I would be comfortable using in reference to my own child.

My dad frequently sends me texts about his son and his bodily discoveries, saying “Just wait til your son gets older”, and “boys!! oi-vey!!”. I know he sends these in an attempt to commiserate and create a bond that is strangely based on our child’s genitals, but it leaves me feeling dysphoric and unsatisfied with my childhood. Of course I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with a penis and experience all those discoveries. Of course I don’t know what it’s like to experience the freedom that’s granted to boys and not girls, and seems to be perpetuated by my dad.

But will I let this dissatisfaction make me overcompensate with my own child? Will I let the influences my parents had on me dictate how I raise my own child? Not if I can help it.

MOVING FORWARD

While I initially fell victim to the same “do I want a boy or a girl” thinking that seems to predominantly afflict cis and heteronormative parents-to-be, what’s important is how to move forward. I vow to do better by my child. I challenge my assumptions when I think of my child as a grown up. I remind myself to not restrict myself (or my child) simply based on what genitals he was born with.

While we have chosen to use he/him pronouns for our child, we don’t believe that this dictates his gender. We avoid all other gendered language (son, little man, good boy, etc). We put him in clothes that we like and that fit him, regardless of design or colour. And we will be allowing him to play with any toys, where he wants, and to wear what he wants. We will be asking open questions about gender and presentation and be honest with him about our own identities.

While I initially wanted a boy, I now truly understand that it wouldn’t matter. My baby is my baby and will grow up into whatever human being they want to be.

RELATED POSTS

Join our community! Receive new posts to your inbox so you don’t have to remember to check back.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

When Caring for your Child Triggers Dysphoria

When we picture having a child we think of sleepy cuddles, bonding while feeding, and being an expert at diaper changes. The reality is not always so rosy. Maybe our baby has health struggles, we struggle with mental health postpartum, or, in my case, dysphoria gets in the way.

There are multitude of ways dysphoria can be triggered when caring for your child, depending on how you experience the most dysphoria and what your child care roles are. Personally, I found nursing to cause the most dysphoria, then later, pumping was causing less but was still building up over time, as well as all the sensations in my chest associated with lactation.

I noticed it was getting in the way of being able to bond with my baby the way I wanted to and stopping me from being present in order to notice the small daily changes my baby was making. I couldn’t pay attention to my baby while nursing. I had a spike in dysphoria when holding my baby against my chest. And I was dreading the time I had to spend pumping which made me irritable and easily frustrated.

So I developed a number of strategies to use depending on the situation to decrease the interference of dysphoria. Even if the trigger for your dysphoria is different, I hope these strategies will help you navigate caring for your child in a way that minimizes your dysphoria and maximizes your ability to bond.

BE HONEST

Be honest with yourself, your social supports (partner, doulas, close family or friends), and your medical supports (midwife, doctors, mental health professionals, lactation consultants). As much as we are taught that it is, it is not shameful to feel dysphoria, even when it is triggered by something like caring for your baby or child. The only way to make the situation better for everyone is to be open and honest about it.

This will also help narrow down the trigger. Often, I would be feeling irritable, fatigued, or burnt out and not recognize it as dysphoria related. Then, once my husband and I realized it was likely dysphoria, it still took a bit of conscious awareness to figure out the trigger which for me was nursing. Upon further discussion, observation, and testing, we figured out what would need to be modified to decrease or eliminate the dysphoria. There is no way I would have been able to do all this on my own.

ASK FOR HELP

Sometimes you need someone to take over the dysphoria-triggering task, even if temporarily, to give you a break and build up some reserve. But this isn’t always an option. My husband couldn’t take over lactation for me. So instead of taking over that specific task, even having them offload other tasks can give you more energy to deal with the dysphoria and still have enough left over to bond with your child.

For example, my husband does as many feedings as he can each day as they typically coincide with pumping times. This allows me to pump without the stress of wondering when the baby will wake up and scream for food or delay pumping in order to feed the baby resulting in increased chest discomfort.

FIND OTHER BONDING TIME

If dysphoria gets in the way of bonding with your baby during typical bonding tasks, prioritize bonding at other times. Carve out some play time or snuggle time when it is less likely to trigger dysphoria. Find a snuggle strategy or style of play that is more comfortable for you. I look for the times when the baby is alert and playful and drop what I’m doing to play on the floor, read a book, sing and dance, or go for a walk. This takes time away from other things but getting extra housework or personal stuff done doesn’t make up for the lack of bonding time at the end of the day.

I also found I was missing little changes and new behaviours my baby was doing because I was too busy trying to ignore or deal with the dysphoria. So, on days when I felt particularly dysphoric and disconnected, I would use my journal to write down my own personal challenges and triumphs for that day (to disconnect it from the baby) and some of the new things the baby was doing or a fun moment we shared that day. Just taking the time to think back on the day in order to write it down helped bring those moments into focus through the haze of dysphoria.

ADJUST YOUR CHILD CARE STRATEGY

Sometimes, despite all your efforts to manage it, the dysphoria is too strong or is getting progressively worse. As much as you would like to care for your baby/child in the ‘optimal’ way, that is not always what’s best for you and therefore best for your child. Sometimes we have to compromise on our preferred style of care in order to take care of ourselves and minimize dysphoria.

This could mean using disposable diapers instead of cloth to make diaper changes faster. Or switching to bottle feeding instead of nursing. Or switching to formula and stopping lactation altogether. Or having the baby in the stroller for walks instead of the carrier. Or doing ‘skin-to-skin’ time with the baby lying on your lap instead of your chest. There are always other options.

For us, this meant switching from nursing to pumping and bottle feeding after two weeks. I had the goal of feeding my baby my milk for the first six months but once my supply increased to >75% of my baby’s intake, the amount of sensation from my chest started increasing my dysphoria much faster. So we decided to decrease lactation earlier and slowly switch to formula. This may increase my baby’s gas. This may not be my preferred method of feeding my baby, or what society tells me is best. But it’s what’s best for us.

What I’ve found is that, even though it’s not my preferred method of care, the next-best option that results in less dysphoria feels significantly better and allows me to engage in the care a lot more, resulting in a much better experience for my baby as well. There is no harm in trying different things. You should never rule out options based on preconceived ideas from society. If it’s the best option for you (and still meets your baby’s basic needs), it’s the best option for your baby as well.

What baby/child care tasks trigger your dysphoria? What strategies do you use to deal with it so it doesn’t interfere with bonding with your child? Leave me a comment below or send me an email! The more strategies we share with each other the better!

RELATED POSTS

Join my community and have new posts sent to your inbox so you don’t have to check back! You can unsubscribe at any time.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Feeding My Baby as a Nonbinary Person

PLANNING

When I was pregnant and looking ahead to having a newborn, it was very hard for me to tell how I would feel about nursing. I have dysphoria around my chest that fluctuates and when I read information on or listened to people talk about ‘breastfeeding’, my dysphoria would get worse. I didn’t always know if that was because I was feeling more masculine at the time I was absorbing the information, because the language used was dysphoria inducing, or because the act itself would cause dysphoria.

So we planned for all options. I learned what I could about nursing (which turned out to be just the basics because it would inevitably make my dysphoria worse). We purchased a set of bottles, nipples, a sterilizer, and formula. And I looked up information on pumping and bought a basic manual pump to try. No matter how I felt about nursing or how our baby did with it, we had a way to feed them.

NURSING

The first time I tried nursing was nothing special. There was no feeling of euphoria or ecstasy, no overwhelming feeling of connection with my baby. But it went well and within the first few days both of us had figured out the mechanics. During this initial phase, it was all about learning a new skill and as long as I focused on that, the dysphoria was secondary.

By the fourth day we had pretty much gotten the hang of it but my baby was still looking a bit jaundiced and was showing signs of dehydration. It turned out that although my milk was coming in, my let-down was nearly non-existent. My midwives explained that this is common after receiving an epidural. So they showed me how to hand express during nursing to increase the flow.

This worked well and my baby quickly improved. However, hand expression meant I had to be constantly engaged with my chest during nursing every few hours. My let down didn’t seem to improve a whole lot and after a week of doing this my dysphoria had increased to the point where I needed to keep myself, and therefore the baby, covered during feeding. I would express by feel and be able to watch tv as a distraction without the view of my chest in my peripheral vision.

The juxtaposition of the baby that I had a lot of love and connection to and my chest that I was increasingly uncomfortable with was very emotionally taxing. But due to the intense fatigue that comes from recovering from a four day labour and sleep deprivation from having a newborn that needs feeding every 2-3 hours, I was in survival mode and didn’t recognize how emotionally drained this experience of nursing was making me.

In addition, nursing sessions were lasting longer and longer, often an hour or more. According to everything I had read and been told, once my milk came in and the baby learned how to suck and swallow efficiently, nursing would get faster and faster, eventually down to about twenty minutes. I didn’t know why this wasn’t the case for us but I knew it likely wasn’t good. Not to mention the longer sessions were increasing my dysphoria significantly faster.

At our two week follow up with the midwife we found out that the baby wasn’t gaining weight like they should. Despite all the physical and emotional energy I had been putting into nursing, it wasn’t working. Without warning, I broke down into tears. I felt like we had been doing well. The midwife explained that between the baby’s lower body weight and the long nursing sessions, it sounded like I didn’t have enough milk supply. The baby was burning more calories than they were getting. So we decided to start supplementing with formula.

BOTTLE FEEDING

The plan was to nurse at each feeding time for 15-20 minutes per side, then offer formula in a bottle until the baby decided they were full. We discussed other supplementing options like a supplemental nursing system or SNS but since we already had bottles and it would mean that my husband would get a chance to be involved in feeding (which he was excited to try) we decided bottles were the way to go. Besides, an SNS would likely only increase my dysphoria further.

Luckily our baby took to bottle feeding very easily. Maybe it was because it was a clear source of the nutrition they had been struggling to get from me but without all the effort. My husband did the first bottle feeding session using a paced feeding technique. At the second meal, I tried it. The emotional experience of feeding my baby from a bottle as compared to nursing was significant.

I was able to stay engaged, watching my baby figure out how to coordinate sucking, swallowing, and breathing. I could enjoy the cuddles without experiencing dysphoria at the same time. Since both my husband and I were feeding the baby this way, it was a completely gender neutral or gender irrelevant experience. It was lovely.

Once I discovered how much better feeding my baby from a bottle was, I was reluctant to keep nursing. But I wanted to feed my body as much human milk as I could because of the health benefits and the ease of digestion for their still developing gut. So in order to keep increasing my supply without nursing, I had to start pumping.

PUMPING

I started using the manual pump I had purchased while pregnant. It was fairly easy to figure out. I still didn’t have much let-down due to low supply and therefore had to continue to hand express while pumping which meant the dysphoria was just as bad with pumping as with nursing, but it wasn’t competing or overshadowing the positive emotions I had for the baby. I could experience my love and bond with my baby separately.

I also had a feeling of altruism because I was doing the hard work of extracting the milk so my baby didn’t have to. Unfortunately, pumping 4-6 times per day with a manual pump while hand expressing takes a toll on your hands pretty quickly. My hands started getting too sore to express and too sore to pump more than 3 times a day. So I had to be satisfied with whatever milk I got from those sessions (one eighth to one fifth of what my baby was eating) and say that it was better than nothing.

Luckily, my midwives were connected with a publicly funded, trans inclusive lactation clinic in my area and put in a referral.

LACTATION SUPPORT

As soon as we discovered that I had low supply, I started taking supplements to help increase my supply slowly. I was reluctant to take the stronger, recommended medication in case it increased my supply more than I could handle in terms of dysphoria. I really disliked the few times I experienced the feeling of being engorged while my milk was first coming in. The supplements or the pumping seemed to be working because my supply was increasing. By the time the initial visit with the lactation consultant came up, I was consistently producing a fifth to a quarter of what my baby was eating.

Despite knowing that the lactation clinic was trans inclusive, I had significant anxiety and dysphoria leading up to the initial appointment. But they turned out to be great. The intake form that I filled out online in advance didn’t ask explicitly about identity and pronouns but it used inclusive language for the most part and had a fill-in-the-blank box at the end where we could put anything else we thought would be relevant.

They clarified my pronouns right off the bat and asked about my goals. They made it clear that their role was to support me in achieving whatever goals I had, whether it was to increase supply, maintain current levels, or stop lactation altogether. They were understanding and respectful of my experience of dysphoria and my need to balance that with the desire to feed my baby as much using my milk as possible.

Ultimately, I started taking the standard medication to increase supply and rented a hospital grade, double electric pump. I was nervous about how this style of pump would feel and it definitely took some getting used to but it allowed me to set it and forget it while still getting as much milk as possible. I adapted a sports bra to hold the flanges in place and was able to watch tv or play on my phone while pumping. Best of all, I didn’t have to wear out my hands to get milk. Sure, the altruism factor related to the hard work was less but being able to stay covered up and ignore it was great.

WHERE WE ARE NOW

Now, at three months postpartum, I am producing three quarters to 100% of what my baby eats. We have noticed a big improvement in our baby’s amount of gas and therefore their ability to sleep through the night. Even that, without any other benefit, is enough encouragement to keep me going. I am still taking the medication and my supply is still increasing slowly but with minimal feelings of engorgement and only pumping three times per day.

My plan is to continue what I’m doing for another three months. I will stop taking the medication after about eight weeks on it or once my supply is to the level I want, whichever comes first. Once my baby is six months old and starts eating solids, the lactation clinic will help me decrease and ultimately stop lactation.

I am happy with how this journey has turned out, despite the struggle at the beginning. I have had phenomenal support from my midwives, the lactation clinic, and especially my husband. Regardless, I am definitely looking forward to the day when I can wear my binder again.

RELATED POSTS

Receive new posts in your inbox! Join my community by commenting or replying by email! I’d love to have you!

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

How Being Trans Prepared Us for Parenting a Newborn

On August 27, 2020, a new member of the family was born. Our little one has a full head of hair and is doing well, as are we. But parenting a newborn, especially your first child, is not easy. There are many fears, frustrations, and sleepless nights. Of course, there are also the successes, excitement, and pleasant surprises.

The first three months are said to be the hardest. The baby is the most dependent and only able to communicate via crying. Initially, they only go three hours between needing to eat which leads to very little time for anything beyond basic baby care – feed, change the diaper, rock them to sleep, then two hours later, repeat. Their digestive system is predominantly inactive when they are born and has a steep curve which causes lots of gas pains and therefore screaming. During these gassy periods there is almost nothing you can do as a parent to help beyond be a calming, reassuring presence.

Needless to say, the first three months, and most especially the first six weeks, are extremely difficult. I can’t imagine how single parents or those with minimal support network do it. Even with two of us, and support from our parents on both sides, it felt extremely challenging at times.

Now that we are at week 9, things have settled into a routine and life is more predictable. Looking back, a lot of the skills and strategies we used to help us through the first part of our little one’s life were honed throughout my husband’s transition. It feels like that experience, though it was a huge trial in itself, taught us how to navigate new parenthood. No, we didn’t learn how to feed a baby or change a diaper during his transition, but those more concrete things are easier to pick up. It’s the squishy stuff that is much more challenging.

As I mentioned above, having a new baby can be exhausting and frustrating. You don’t always know what to do or have the emotional reserve to repeat the same actions every three hours. The repetition is exhausting to the point that when you do have a free moment, you no longer have the energy to do any of the things you have be wishing you had the time to do. You are in a constant state of boredom, restlessness, and exhaustion all while feeling like you’re supposed to be enjoying every moment.

Transition is also exhausting and frustrating. You have to repeat your personal story and defend yourself to acquaintances, service providers, friends, and family multiple times a day. You feel worn down but still have to deal with the next interaction that comes along. There are systemic barriers and long wait times that are overwhelmingly frustrating. And the whole time, you just want to be happy and excited that you are slowly becoming the person you want to be.

Learning how to deal with this long, slow burn type of frustration and function despite emotional exhaustion prepared us for new parenthood. The strategy we use is to recognize the emotion of frustration for what it is – a reaction to a situation that you feel you have no control over – and find ways to regain control either within that situation or by completing other tasks.

Another part of the strategy is to focus on the little things that are positive, small signs of progress, and keep the long term picture in mind. With a little baby who can only communicate by crying and who has minimal vision and no control over their limbs, it can be exhausting to sink all your positive emotions into this being and receive only fussing and crying in return. Sure, there are also the times when they are sleeping like an angel and are so sweet you just want to cuddle them and squish them but you don’t dare touch them for fear of waking them. But at the beginning, it can feel like the frustration outweighs the positive feedback. So any sign of development, that they will eventually grow out of this stage, is cause for celebration.

My husband’s transition taught us something similar. Transition is a long, slow process and at times can feel like despite all the fighting, frustration, and effort, you haven’t made any progress. But then you look at your pre-transition photos or compare a voice recording and you realize you have made progress. Keeping up with his transition as his partner required me to recognize and celebrate the little things with him – each crack of his voice as it dropped, each new whisker in his beard, each piece of ID that came back with his correct name and gender marker. We learned how important it was to pay attention to and celebrate the little things and applied the same strategy with our newborn.

Through both gender transition and new parenthood, being aware of your own mental health and being able to communicate how you’re doing with your support network (be it your partner, parent, or medical professional) is extremely important. Through his transition we each learned how to track our own emotional state, how to recognize the signs of depression, burnout, fatigue, or distress in each other, and how to express our own needs as well as raise the issue if we had a concern about the other person.

During his transition, this tracking of our mental and emotional states was up to us. There was no professional checking in, no tracking app with mental health questionnaires and resource articles, and minimal community going through something similar. Since becoming parents, we have had way more support in this area, though we found that both of us have been doing quite well. And when we have a bad day, or a few days of minimal sleep in a row which puts us in a state of burnout, we recognize it quickly and work together to figure out how to regain our positive, stable outlook and look for ways to avoid the same thing in the future.

My husbands transition and my experience supporting him through it didn’t teach us how to be parents. But it did give us the mental health and relationship skills to weather a stressful, exhausting, frustrating, and overwhelming time and turn it into something amazing, fulfilling, enjoyable, and a means of strengthening our bond.

Maybe you haven’t been through a gender transition yourself, or with someone you are close to. But maybe you have been through other trying experiences. If you can look back on those experiences and see what skills you developed or what your learned about yourself that helped you through, maybe you’ll be better prepared for whatever life throws at you. Or maybe you or someone you love is going through a gender transition now. If you are a parent and can remember back to the first six weeks of your child’s life, the skills you developed to get through those six weeks will serve you well over the next 3+ years of navigating transition.

If you are trans and have been told that this means you will never be a good parent, I would argue that the opposite is true. We have felt like, by being trans and navigating transition together, we have superpowers that have already served us well on this new, crazy, and exciting chapter of our lives.

Get new posts in your inbox so you don’t have to remember to check back! You can unsubscribe at any time so why not? Go on, do it. You know you want to.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.