Transforming Birth Trauma Into Purpose

My first “skin-to-skin” with my daughter lasted all of about twenty seconds before they took her to the recovery room with my husband. Over the next hour, I listened to the doctors talk about how I was bleeding out. My life flashed before my eyes, and I had to make peace with the idea that I could be dying and would never get to hold my baby.

My birth story was fraught with challenges. Over the years, my womb and sacral chakra had endured significant trauma, and pregnancy brought nine months of intense emotional purging. Each time I saw my reflection, I confronted my body dysmorphia, past eating disorder, and memories of sexual assault—all while carrying my daughter.

Labor was exceptionally difficult. My daughter Sophia was positioned asynclitically, causing excruciating pain. After 32 grueling hours of labor, despite having an epidural, I couldn't dilate past 5 cm. Sophia's heart rate fluctuated dangerously, and she couldn't be repositioned. She required an internal heart monitor, and ultimately, I had to undergo an emergency C-section, a procedure I had hoped to avoid and which left me terrified.

During the transfer to the operating table, the IV snagged and nearly tore from my arm, resulting in severe bruising that lasted weeks. I was so scared that I asked my husband to pass along final messages to loved ones, fearing for my life. In the operating room, I overheard discussions about significant blood loss. After Sophia was delivered, I couldn't advocate for immediate skin-to-skin contact and had to send my husband to accompany her instead. Alone on the table, my life flashed before my eyes.

This photo was taken two weeks after I came home and the bruising lasted for weeks more. It was a constant reminder of the trauma I experienced during birth.

Following the surgery, I suffered a severe allergic reaction to the antiseptic used. The itching was intolerable and lasted for weeks. I required two blood transfusions and had a massive oversupply of milk that led to getting mastitis twice. I also sustained nerve damage in my abdomen that I still have not fully healed from. Recovery was harrowing, compounded by flashbacks of the surgery and past traumas, which hindered my initial bonding with Sophia.

Seeking healing, I turned to Ketamine Assisted Therapy at three months postpartum. Through six sessions administered at Nushama Wellness under the care of Dr. Steven Radowitz and an incredible team of nurses and integration specialists, this therapy helped lift me from profound darkness- without significant interruption of breastfeeding, as the medication cleared my system quickly. After each treatment, I felt myself opening up to accepting and embracing my role as a new mother. I always loved my baby, but I was beginning to love myself as her mother and see my transformation as something powerful.

My beautiful angel holding the teddy bear that Nushama gave to me on the 6th and final treatment in their protocol. I am forever grateful to them for the healing they helped me reach. Ketamine was not the cure for my PPD and PTSD, but it was an incredible tool that inspired me to turn my trauma into purpose.

During these treatments, I envisioned a future where mothers support each other's healing through music. This vision inspired the creation of WOMB and the community we are building. I saw my strength in matrescence. I remember seeing a vision of a mother rising above the world with a glowing womb, spreading her light to all of humanity. Music was an integral part of the experience, and at times, I felt like my body was the instrument being played on various tracks. I felt extreme gratitude for my ability to create life, create art, and share healing with others.

An AI depiction of a vision I had during one of my KAT treatments at Nushama.

Today, I am at week 40 of my 2nd pregnancy with my 2nd daughter. Sophia is now 22 months old and thriving. Things are not perfect, but when are they ever? I still hate being pregnant. I am still terrified of birth. But I feel empowered now by the tools I have at my disposal, inspired by the women and mothers in my community, and confident that there is light at the end of all of this. I can and will recover. Mothers are powerful, after all. I need just to be patient, give myself grace, and continue to do all I can to help others not feel alone in their journey.

Our second daughter, who Sophia has named Coco.

Thank you for reading about my experience and I hope that this post has helped you feel seen and less alone in your own journey. If you feel called to help in this mission, please consider a donation to help me and my creators complete The WOMB Music Project.