Postpartum Hair Snapback (a.k.a. Hair Hymen)

Samantha Brown. Mom of three kiddos/ Wife/ Actor/ Writer/ Speaker.  Follow via Instagram @sambrownsugar

Six years ago, I was pregnant with my first child. My hair was PERFECTION! The coils were curling just right, so much so, that I would tend to forget that I am NOT of mixed ethnicity! Seriously... my curly, twist out hair looked like a wig. It was full, shining, long, even, bouncy and beautiful! Then, I birthed my son. That's when I pretty much fell off with the constant hair care that black women un-naturally go through to achieve the "natural" look. Before you know it, I looked like a frizzy fro-ed monk! I had dry tumbleweed looking hair, with a bald spot in the center of my head. My previous go to hair products were NOT working!  I eventually figured out that with every pregnancy, miscarriage and postpartum experience, my hair went through something tragic! Tragic like a car accident. Seriously, I would look somewhat groomed and then BOOM, my hair looked like it got up off my head and got hit by a Mack truck... not me, JUST MY HAIR!!

In regards to postpartum, people rarely if ever discuss HAIR... on your head...OR your nether regions (but I will save the latter of the two for a different day.),  For some reason, after having a baby, the conversation about the "snap back," is usually, if not always, referring to your body in terms of weight loss, energy boost, firmness/muscle tone... but not hair.  Just as my daughter is now turning 10 months, my hair is finally doing the "SNAPBACK"!  I have once again found a new product that works for me. Plus, now that baby girl is getting a little older, I now have a half a minute more to actually properly twist my hair. In addition, I actually once again have somewhat of a desire to go someplace other than my bed to get some much needed sleep!

Be encouraged new mommies, when time allows it, you will begin to see your better self again. Give yourself time to recover.  A whole person was formed in you, and came out of you...There's gonna be some repercussions. But I'm here to let you know, when you get that natural spring coil back,  it's like somebody gave you back your hymen! Yes... a hair hymen! 

No Flex Zone (Tales from a former shade thrower)

So... a friend of mine.... well... a friend of a friend had just become a new mom with a bouncing new baby attached at her hip. Myself at that time had a son in 3rd grade. This friend of a friend was a breastfeeding, baby wearing, co-sleeping, cloth diaperING mama, and although most would describe me as an inclusive, laid back hippie, the truth is..I judged her.  Every time she took out her boob to breastfeed, I judged her. That baby couldn’t be that hungry ALL OF THE TIME!!! Surely, she was feeding her child out of some emotional deficit. To add insult to injury, The few car rides that we shared were to the likings of an 80's slasher film. Her kid screamed in the car seat the entire time. After much analyzing & private judgement, I concluded that if she didn’t continually have THAT baby in THAT wrap of hers, surely her little one would be ok with having a moment away from her mom, even if just two feet away.. in the backseat.  And don’t even get me started on the co-sleeping..Sheesh. I chalked up co-sleeping for parents who just could not say NO. MY oldest  was in his crib by two weeks old. Co-sleeping was for punks!!! This chick was failing, and I was clearly winning the war on motherhood. In fact,  I had reasoned, celebrated, and oftentimes bragged that my schedule, freedom, and even sex life remained the same pre-kiddo. Anything that didn’t resemble this pattern, I judged…Until.

I give birth to Jedi. Prior to birthing, we prepared the nursery, put together cribs, cleaned breast pumps, and put the car seat in the car. We were ready. Jedi arrives. After coming home from the hospital, our plan was for Mr. Jedi to sleep in his bassinet for a couple of days, and then move him into his crib..in HIS room. That’s how we did it with our oldest son, Jax. Why would this experience be any different? The first night home proved my theory wrong. After much back and forth, Jedi would triumph over his sleep deprived parental units. He landed in our bed. In his mamas arms. Nursing ALL NIGHT. That was the first night. The first night turned into the second..the third..and here we are..We are STILL co-sleeping..and we like it. (Gasp) . And yes, our sex life has changed... (I will leave that for another post)

One thing that I’ve learned about breastfeeding is that breastfed babies love to breastfeed..A lot…Its kind of their “thing”. Prior to Jedi, I had no clue of this fun fact, as I didn't breastfeed Jax. In fact, I have found I spend A LOT of my time pulling out my boob to feed. NOW, I find myself being the recipient of the yummy platter of onlookers, whose eyes seem to echo the same disbelief that I had so generously dished out previously. Often times I respond with a matter of fact,”Yes, he’s eating again…Yes, he is using me as a pacifier. Yes, again..and again,"  Oh, I almost forgot, Jedi strongly dislikes the carseat. At the most, he will tolerate it for a max of 20 minutes.

Could this all be a case of Karmic payback? Perhaps. Am I now reaping the judgement that i had sewn prior? Maybe. Could it be that every kid is different, including my own? Most definitely. 

 I was guilty of judging my sweet granola eating friend. The truth is, the majority of my judgement was based on my own ignorance and lack of experience. I had never breastfed before. Prior to having Jedi, I had no clue just how much (and how often) breastfed babes ate.   And may I just say, breastfeeding is one of the most selfLess things a woman can do. The pain at the beginning can be, and usually is excruciating...Like toe curling excruciating. And while one often experiences the raved about "feel good" hormones during feeding..The truth is, in between the leaking, cracking, and a babe handling your nipples as if her she is in a game of tug war, breastfeeding is hard work. Not to mention that it can be physically and emotionally draining. The thought that a woman is breastfeeding to only benefit herself is the equivalent of Mother Teresa feeding the needy due to boredom. Its purely absurd.

My transgression revealed that I totally neglected to view our individual experiences for what they were.. our own paths, unique to each of us... definitely not purposed to be projected upon others as a one size fits all blanket. Mothering looks different for everyone.

 Lastly, Mothering should be a NO FLEX ZONE (Please look below for definition). We are all doing our best. We are all a part of Team Mother. The struggle is very much so real in ALL cases.

At the end of the day childbirth, pregnancy, mothering should be off limits..No shaming.. ALL love... ALL support...NO judgement...Trust me, payback is not only real, but it will bite you in the boob.

No Flex Zone--A territory where you are not allowed to boast or flaunt. Flexing is similar to someone showing off or "stuntin"

7/11 Lotto Ticket

"Truth is, what those dear, sweet people (carrying nothing but positive intentions) seemed to be missing, was that the baby that I carried for 10 weeks in my womb was real, and should have been reverenced as so."

I was pregnant...Receiving this news in June was kind of a big deal. My mother's birthday was in June. She had passed away two years prior, and finding out this news during her birthday month felt as though she had personally whispered in God's ear to hear our prayers for a baby. Jon and I had decided that after waiting eight years to add to our family, (our oldest being eight), it was officially time to "try" for a little one. And so we did...We found out we were pregnant in June, and were completely over the moon. We sorted through baby names. Played guessing games regarding gender. Attended multiple garage sales. Loaded up on bassinets and bouncers, all in preparation for our little light's entrance into our world.

July 4th..I'm awake. I go to the bathroom to find that I am bleeding. I am bleeding. I'm not on my period. I am pregnant. Why am I bleeding? My husband calls the midwife. We try our best to describe what we are seeing. We see blood. That's what we see. My midwife instructs me to lay down, as my bleeding wasn't heavy, AND  (fun fact), there are some women who spot during pregnancy. I lay down and fall asleep. I wake to find that my bleeding is minimal and barely there. We run to the hospital, as a precaution.  After a vaginal exam and an ultrasound..we see our little one is still there. Heart is beating. Life is there. The doctor who performed my exam said, "Your body is deciding whether this is a viable pregnancy. Go home. Take it easy." 

The next couple of weeks consisted of me "taking it easy" and my body "deciding". I would visit the doctor again, to find a heartbeat, and our baby & my body still deciding. I didn't leave the house unless I was going to acupuncture or the doctor. I did all the "right things". THIS baby was going to happen. Surely, losing a mother two years prior and then an unborn baby was not part of my story. 

Two weeks later, I'm in the bathroom, cradled at the toilet... only to see the tiny hope of the heart beat that I heard two weeks prior. This could not be my reality. This was the baby that we prayed for. This was the baby that my mother had nudged the hand of God concerning (at least it was comforting to believe so.)  I sat there stunned... numb... in shock... How could this happen? How did my body fail in the one task that women are "supposed" to be able to "easily" complete? (or so I was told)...How did I fail? I ran through scenario after scenario regarding what could have gone wrong. Surely it was my fault. After being poked and prodded by three doctors. Three vaginal exams. Three ultrasounds. I had miscarried. I was 10 weeks pregnant. 

One of the things that I learned through this experience is that people really don't  know what to say to someone who has endured a miscarriage. Afterwards, I was met with the occasional, "I'm so very sorry for your loss" (which is the best thing to say in that kind of situation), OR I was met with my personal favorite, "Well, as least you can always try again," which for the record, is the WRONG thing to say in that kind of situation. Hearing the words, "You can always try again", felt as if the provider of that disclaimer were announcing that OUR baby and/or experience was comparable to that of a 7/11 lotto ticket... we could just simply try again. Truth is, what those dear, sweet people (carrying nothing but positive intentions) seemed to be missing, was that the baby that I carried for 10 weeks in my womb was real, and should have been reverenced as so. Yes, we could try again. Yes, we would try again. However, THAT baby deserved to be acknowledged for the light that he or she was... if even for a quick flicker.