My Big Fat Motherhood

This world breastfeeding week and national breastfeeding month, I’m honoring the rawness of breastfeeding.

Breastfeeding has been the most intense thing I’ve ever done.

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Happy Halloween!
I didn’t plan a costume but wound up accidentally in the perfect fit to be none other than Miss Trunchbull thanks to my toddler carrier while my (almost) 2 year old was in a back carry.

Swipe for pics of the kids as their fave things at the moment - M is the Red Ranger from Dino Fury. And S is a T-Rex or as he calls them “SAURUS!!! Rawwwwwr”

What did you and your family dress up as and/or do for Halloween? 🕸️


Plus size Halloween costume
DIY costume
Babywearing costume
Mom of two
Tula

Alone.

That’s all I could think. I’m alone. He’s alone. For the first time since I knew I was pregnant, it was just me.

I used to talk to my pregnant belly in the shower, in the car, sitting at my desk at work, and pretty much any other time it was just the two of us.

And then. We weren’t together anymore.
Not even on the same floor.

I was in a constant panic about him feeling abandoned. About having failed to do the one thing I needed to do, keep him safe. I was so scared he wouldn’t know who I was. He didn’t smell me after birth. He didn’t taste my milk until he was almost a full day old, and even then it was my husband syringe feeding him.

I felt helpless.
And I looked at pictures of him and just cried.

Hundreds of what-ifs still run through my head.

All I wanted in the word was to squish his butt.

But I couldn’t. And when I was able to hold him, he was connected to too many things and far too fragile for me to embrace the way I wanted.

NICU parenting is more difficult than anything I can articulate. The NICU isolates not only baby, but parents too.

Alone.

NICU birth trauma traumatic birth postpartum ptsd

Teaching safety to our autistic son has been an exercise in creativity. Sharing safety info in ways he understands and enjoys changed a lot for us.

He’s hyperlexic so we write safety info down for him to read and hopefully memorize.

He’s a gestalt language processor so we created songs for important information so they become part of his scripts.

Meaningful Speech has such good info in this post and I wanted to share it here 🦺

My little is very in to bluey rn. Wanted to share just in case yours are too! 👻🎃

Now ➡️ Then

Happy 8th anniversary 💙💛🩶
I love you and I like you.

First day feels ✏️📓🥺

I don’t know what to say about breastfeeding right now. It’s 9:30pm on the last day of World Breastfeeding Week and I feel raw about my journey. So I’m sharing raw, unedited, unfiltered, real life photos of my breastfeeding.

I’m so tired.
I’ve been breastfeeding since September of 2018.
1,774 days to be exact.

I’m drained. My life force is drained from me every day.

I used to feel panic about weaning. I don’t know who I am as a mother without breastfeeding. But now meeting that version of me doesn’t fill me with dread.

My body was their first home.

And it always will be.

This might be my last World Breastfeeding Week actively breastfeeding. It might not.

And for the first time, either way is okay with me.

breastfed lactation attachment parenting motherhood mom plus size

9 years ago I said yes.

I said yes to all of the dreams I could dream.

I also said yes to the nightmares. The unexpected. The tragedy. The trauma.

Doing life together isn’t just the beautiful things. It’s the nitty gritty. The details.

The me that said yes all those years ago is still a part of me. Along with the me that said “I do”. The me that gave birth twice. The me that almost died.

This day reminds me of the fireworks between us but it also reminds me of the many explosions we’ve endured as well.

Active heart failure.

That’s what I see in these photos now.

Not the early days of postpartum. Not the beauty of the mother/baby dyad.
Not the life.

But death.
And just how close I was to it.

If not for these carriers, I don’t know how I would have held my baby. I was so very weak.

I share a lot about baby wearing because it matters to me. It helped me navigate unthinkable things. It helped me bond after extended separation from my baby. It made holding my baby accessible instead of impossible.

Baby wearing brought me back to life.

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Carriers: 1st & 4th pic embrace, 2nd pic ring sling, 3rd pic stretchy wrap

in my villain era 🔮

I’ve been reading Katee Robert’s Wicked Villains and knew I wanted this wallet from because it features all of the bad boys (and ladies) I’ve been reading about.

I didn’t expect it to have extra villains on the inside! Swipe to see.

Its beautifully made and feels durable. Check my bio for the link to get yours and use SUZXLFDV to save 20%!

I should make this post about how Babywearing helped us navigate my toddler being hospitalized. That’s what ~influencer~ culture tells me to do.

But I want to share my grief. My fear. My journey to finding my voice and power as a mother.

The three photos in this carousel were all taken at the same hospital. And all three are of me and my second child.

And all three of these hospital visits have shaped who I am as a mother.

After birthing my way, I felt triumphant.
After getting my PPCM diagnosis at two weeks postpartum, I felt the reality of my humanity.
And after watching my baby be admitted to the pediatrics unit, I feel raw.

I don’t have the silver lining to wrap this post neatly with a bow.

I just have these broken and burnt out feelings on the very surface of my being.

Being a mother is being undone in perpetuity.

I am 1 in 4.
I am 1 in 8.

I grieve today as much as I celebrate it.

The path to motherhood was not what I ever thought it’d be and my life after having my first looks nothing like I thought it would.

Mothering is grief in action.
It is also love in action.
And everything in between.

For whatever stage of motherhood you’re in, I see you and I send you love today.

I hope you get to spend this day however YOU want.

Happy Mother’s Day, friends 🩷

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Okay maybe we want a starbies gift card but only if you also get us our fave drink and a cake pop with it

Mother’s Day is 9 days from now. You have time for prime orders. You have time to browse the Pinterest boards and Goodreads and Amazon saved for later cart. You have time to call and make a reservation.

The mother of your children deserves the thought and care and consideration of being known.

What’s YOUR dream Mother’s Day?

Our first photo together. 18 months ago.

When I was diagnosed with postpartum heart failure (ppcm) at 2 weeks postpartum my doctors were very supportive in making sure I could breastfeed my newborn. All of my medications were carefully selected to be breastfeeding safe.

Then at my six month follow up, my cardiologist started asking when I would stop breastfeeding. I told him I wanted to get to at least 18 months. That was my goal.

And now, with just an hour and some change left in the day, we’ve made it. I made it.

I met this goal.
I survived a near-death postpartum complication.
I fed my baby through my recovery.
My body did it.

I did it.

And I did it fat. All of it.

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Baby’s First BooBoo 🩹
Family of Four’s second Easter 🐰

Reading changed Holidays for me.
What magic do we value?
What traditions matter?
What is worth our energy?

For us the answer is
Easter baskets - no candy just a few fun things.
Cinnamon Rolls for breakfast.
Special clothes (at least for the kids)
Photos of our day.
And time together.

And who knows how next year will look! Maybe we’ll do more. Maybe less.

But today we had fun.
Together.

I was working on my Sephora Squad application when I stumbled upon this recent article about my power-lifting on .

➡️ to read the titillating story

and please go to my profile to tell why I’d make a great member of their Sephora Squad for 2023 💄

If you were a Barbie, what would your tagline be?

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Today is my husband’s birthday. These are the only photos we have of just the two of us from the last year, and one was taken last night 😅

But that’s the stage we’re in.
Our camera rolls are full of screenshots of specific products or food, pictures of our kids, and pictures our kids took with our phones when we weren’t carefully guarding them.

When I was pregnant with my first, I was afraid of the change to our relationship. I knew it wouldn’t be just us anymore and that our roles were shifting. Now, 4.5 years in, we’re still deep in the trenches of being Mom and Dad first. Not fully Suzanne and Casey. Not fully Wife and Husband. But Mommy and Daddy.

Our breaks are few and our stressors are many, but we continue to work as a team through this season.

I stress the importance of taking photos during pregnancy and with your children no matter what you look like or how messy the house is. I think it’s time I start taking my own advice and taking more photos of us. Just us.

One day my kids will want to see them.

When was the last photo you took with your partner?

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For the last day of I wanted to share a reframe of a popular meme.

A full time job in America, especially if you’re just starting, rarely comes with guaranteed vacation. Holidays and weekends, sure. But three weeks? Ha! 1900 hours seemed off to me. So I adjusted for federal holidays off and an 8 hour day, 5 days a week job.

And breastfeeding only being 1800 hours?! Ha! Lactation is 24/7/365. The body is always either producing or providing milk during lactation. In just one year that’s 8760 hours!! And this goes for pumping, and combo feeding too. Any amount of nursing requires your body to go through the stages of lactation.

For the now universally recommended two years that’s 17,520 HOURS!!

For two years of full time work that’s only 4000 hours.

Let’s not minimize the time it takes to breast/chestfeed.

It’s more than a full time job.

Tag a breastfeeding parent you know to give them recognition 🏆

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It’s world breastfeeding week.

If you’re new here, breastfeeding comes up a lot in my posts.

If you’ve been here a while, you know that breastfeeding has been an important part of my parenting journey so far.

And if you’re just browsing, I hope you’ll check out this article I’m featured in over on by specifically about plus size breastfeeding.

Come back every day this week for more on breastfeeding 🤱🏻

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Little Miss Growing Up Fat

What’d I miss 😅

Little Miss — body acceptance edition.

Yesterday I covered some fatphobic microaggressions. Today, it’s about body acceptance, fat positivity, and healing.

Which Little Miss are you?

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Little Miss: fatphobic edition.

Share if you’ve experienced one of these. Comment if you’ve experienced more than one 💬

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They’re a 10 but…

How many times has a romantic partner or interest commented on your body? Suggested you diet? Tried to make conversations about your weight? Used how you look as an excuse for why you’re not more serious? Told you that you lack willpower?

They’re a 0.

It is not your job as a fat person to prove your worth to those committed to reducing it to your ability to lose weight and/or subscribe to diet culture.

Has a partner said something like this to you? Tell me in the comments!

You are worthy of love just as you are.

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This weekend we may be cuddled up on the couch but last weekend we ventured to our local Wow on Wheels fueled by Clif Kid!

Free events for kids that are engaging and provide a snack are hard to find. made this a fun stop for our family!

Have you heard of ? We hadn’t before and this tour of events was a great intro! A scavenger hunt of play that engaged all of our senses and provided us with a fun photo op!

Fed is best applies to fat people too.

Fed is best applies to depressed people too.

Fed is best applies to parents too.

Fed is best applies to YOU too.

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I am a gun violence survivor.

And I will not be silent while our kids yet again suffer from our tolerance of their deaths.

If this hasn’t radicalized you, what will?

Resources:







Text ACT to 644-33 for more to

Please tag and share more resources/accounts in the comments.

And please unclench your jaw, drink some water, and take your meds.

Becoming a mom of two almost killed me. Literally. I developed a rare complication, postpartum cardiomyopathy, and had to be hospitalized just two weeks after giving birth to my second child.

So when I think about becoming a mom of two that’s often the first thing that comes to mind. The moment I knew I would die if I didn’t get to a hospital. The hours I spent in an ER room waiting to hear if I was headed to the ICU or not. The goodbye I said to my baby knowing he’d have to formula feed for however long we’d be separated. The doctors who couldn’t figure out just how I got so sick. The conversation about life support. The sheer terror on my husband’s face. And the absolute helplessness I felt.

But looking back I’m trying to remember other moments. Like this one. The first time I held both of my babies at the same time. The first time I tandem fed.

My motherhood is both traumatic and triumphant. It is complex and compassionate. It is extraordinary and exhausting. Fun and frustrating. Sweet and solemn. And it is both private and public.

My mothering is my life’s work.

And this Mother’s Day I could not be more relieved to share that my most recent scans and testing show that I am 90% recovered from my life threatening heart condition.

So today I celebrate that. I celebrate life. Both the two I have created and my own. And I hope you take a moment to celebrate life, too.

Happy Mother’s Day, all.

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