Ericka Shores (28 - she/her), Julia (2 years, 9 months), and Matthew (8 months)
Boston, MA
I had a traumatic ER experience when I started bleeding at 15 weeks pregnant with my second child. After the most painful pelvic exam I’ve ever had, I was told that my cervix was dilated and I was beginning to miscarry. (None of this was true.) I was worried that my waters broke, but I couldn’t get a straight answer when I asked about it multiple times. When I saw my midwife the following morning, everything started to feel calm and normal again thanks to her excellent explanations and care. But I’ll never forget how the grief I felt that night took over my whole body.
How has parenthood impacted your body image?
I’ve struggled with my body image since middle school. Ever since another girl asked why my stomach looked “like that” as we changed for gym class. She knew why. I had some tummy pudge—which I’ve always had and always will have. Which I struggled against for so long. Parenthood has complicated my body image. I feel like I should be able to say it’s totally positive now because that’s what I try my best to model for my children. I feel the urge to flatten my squishy rolls with my hands, and I play my loud and proud “belly drum” instead. I do appreciate my body so much more for carrying my beautiful babies, and I loved how I looked with my big pregnant bellies. I love that my little one has grown chunky and strong nursing from my breasts. I’m also afraid to bare it all and accept that what I see in the mirror is actually me. MY body. I’m struggling to feel worthy and sexy. I’ve so rarely seen a body like mine portrayed as even remotely sexy. There’s a whole fucking comedy special named to make people feel ashamed of their nursing/post-nursing breasts. It pops into my head all the time, and I hate that I let it get to me. It feels good to get that off my chest. Pun absolutely intended. I’ll find a little extra gratitude for my body today.
What was your postpartum experience?
I’ve had two pretty different postpartum experiences. When my first baby was born, we were living halfway across the country from both of our families. A lot happened in the early weeks that I think contributed to my postpartum depression and anxiety. There was extreme lack of sleep combined with nursing issues. I saw multiple LCs who thought everything looked great. J was transferring milk, latching, and gaining weight, but it was a struggle. It just didn’t feel right.
Our landlord decided it was an appropriate time to do roof repairs when our baby was only six weeks old. My anxiety skyrocketed. We decided to stay with friends for a week, and J caught her first illness. This led to a “family” doctor telling me that I just wasn’t familiar enough with my baby’s sounds yet and then a trip to the ER later that evening when she spiked a fever. When I hit 8 weeks postpartum, I was truly at a breaking point. I’d had intense mastitis twice in the same month. After J’s two-month vaccines, I sobbed because I did not know for sure if I had made the right choice for my child.
I experienced a terrible flare up of Temporomandibular Joint Disorder (TMJD) that pushed me further into depression. I could only tolerate a liquid diet and was so afraid that I wasn’t producing enough milk. I obsessed over the color and consistency of every dirty diaper. I finally confided in my husband and sought treatment because I was so close to feeling completely hopeless that I didn’t feel safe. I’ll always remember how one of my therapists said that she would “hold my hope” for me while I couldn’t. Thanks to everyone who held hope for me until I could carry it myself. I’m so grateful to be here to watch my spirited, inquisitive, independent, and joyful toddler grow and learn. You’re worth every difficult moment, my precious peanut.
By the time my second child was born, we were living back in our home state. I was already connected with a therapist and other postpartum resources. The big breaking point I worried would come again has not shown up. I struggled with recurrent mastitis up until M was three months old and somehow had the energy and strength to push through. I’ve learned that nursing an older baby is both really fun and really annoying. I’m remembering the joyful times when I look back on J’s past milestones as M meets them now. I’m in a good and happy place right now. Trying to stay present and soak it all in. Trying to keep the “Do we want another child?” question out of my head. As crazy and difficult as postpartum life is, I seriously love having babies/children. My family feels complete at the moment and I want to enjoy it.
What is your truth that you'd pass along to your former self, or a new parent?
My truth is that I am the best mom for my children. I want my former, present, and future self to know and believe this.
Why did you choose to participate in this movement and share your story?
I have followed this movement for a few years now, and I’m very grateful to all those who shared their stories and bodies so bravely before me. There’s quite a bit of emotional baggage attached to how I became my postpartum self, and I hope that unpacking it so visibly will help someone else out there who needs to know they are not alone.