Ingredients

2 cups rolled oats
1/2 cups pecans, chopped
1/3 cup chocolate chips
1/4 cup almonds, chopped
6 dates, chopped and tossed lightly in flour so they don’t clump
1 Tbs whole flax or chia seeds
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2 eggs
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup crunchy peanut butter
1/3 cup brown sugar or coconut sugar
1/3 cup cane sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt

Directions

1.) Cream together the butter and peanut butter. Then add eggs, sugars, and vanilla and beat until the mixture is fluffy.

2.) In a separate bowl, combine the oats, flax seeds, pumpkin pie spice, baking soda, and salt. Then add this dry mixture to the wet ingredients and mix well.

3.) Add the pecans, chocolate chips, almonds, and dates and mix until incorporated.

4.) Chill in the fridge for 30 minutes.

5.) Roll into balls and bake for 13 minutes at 350.

You could probably call these a riff on lactation cookies, but I just call them higher in fiber, protein, and FLAVOR than your average cookie.

If you want more breastfeeding-supportive recipes, my PDF cookbook is 25% off this month to celebrate World Breastfeeding Week/National Breastfeeding month! Use code WBW2026 to save!

I started listening to The Prosecutors podcast which discusses the facts of the case, and has been truly enlightening. Also tragic. As they say, there’s no good outcome. What’s done has been done, lives ended and ruined. The jury isn’t trying to decide who did it. They are trying to decide whether Lindsay is criminally responsible or whether she was in postpartum psychosis and not responsible for her actions in that moment. She will likely be institutionalized for life either way.

I’m not going to say that good can come out of a story like this, but I am going to say this: we can make this a learning opportunity OR we can add to the chaos of armchair crime “experts” and whodunit conspiracies.

If you know me at all, you know I’m going to choose the former. Like many mothers, I hear the excerpts from Lindsay’s journal—both the mundane notes for the babysitter and the desperate, “will I ever feel like myself again” ones—and see myself. The judicious notes and obsession over sleep? Been there. I’m also a nurse, so I know what it is to know that something isn’t right, yet struggle to find answers… but because you’re a nurse everyone assumes a level of health competence that you may not always be able to apply to your own life.

I’ve never had postpartum psychosis or lost sight of reality. But my third postpartum was a doozy, with an emergency hospital admission for blood transfusions, intrusive thoughts from postpartum OCD, and PTSD from my husband having to call 911 for me.

A few weeks postpartum, after having nightly anxiety, I tried Zoloft in desperation and, like Lindsay, it kept me up all night with a panic attack, achieving the exact opposite of what it was supposed to do. I threw the rest of the bottle away. Atarax (an anti-histamine) helped significantly more than SSRIs, but my doctor wouldn’t prescribe it beyond 3 months.

At five months postpartum (don’t get me started on all the people saying, “Lindsay Clancy was 8 months out, isn’t that too late for postpartum issues?!”) I had a panic attack when my husband was driving our family home in the rain after my older kids’ spring co-op presentation, and I realized I was not okay. Time was not fixing this. I called my local NaPro office the next day and several rounds of progesterone injections saved my sanity. Ultimately I was also able to pursue counseling to work through my post-birth trauma before my baby’s first birthday. I was always in my right mind and cognizant of how unwell I was, even though my mental health got worse for 5 months before it started to get better. But I came close enough to the edge to stare over the abyss and see what it might be like to actually free fall out of reality altogether.

I’m currently 12 weeks pregnant with our fourth baby. While I feel like my mental health is good right now, I did have to check myself yesterday, after the latest episode of The Prosecutors, and ask, why am I so invested? Can I sanely continue to stay updated like this for the next 4-6 weeks?

I came to the conclusion that for me, it’s not the fascination of the abomination that’s drawing me to this case. I am the farthest think from a true crime junkie. I can’t think too much about what ACTUALLY happened because it is devastating. Upon introspection, I realized that I am invested for two reasons: I want to know where, when, and how her (presumed) psychosis was missed so that I can know for my own clients and—I begrudgingly found myself realizing—for myself. I find that underneath it all, after all I’ve been through and recovered from in the past four years, I’ve seen how postpartum can go terribly wrong. While I’m in a much better place now, I will never forget the bottom falling out from under me and my personality bent is to learn more and more information about a subject in hopes that I can circumvent things from going in a certain direction.

That realization then brought me to a discussion I had with a friend the other morning about taking thoughts captive. We weren’t talking about postpartum, but I realized that’s really the only antidote to the over-preparation and over-education and over-analyzation. God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind (2 Tim 1:7).

I realized that I need to be more intentional about practicing that NOW so that the neural pathways are well-worn by the time my brain shifts into postpartum mode. Some people who have had PPP are speaking out saying, you can hear the voices and not DO what they say. Of course, those are also people who got adequate, timely help. I will never know what was going on in Lindsay Clancy’s mind, but I can absolutely control what’s going on in my own.

2 Corinthians 10:5 says, “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

Romans 12:2 says, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Phillipians 4: 8 says, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

I haven’t felt my thoughts spiraling this week, but I have in the past and I know that I can interrupt it a few different ways depending on how I’m feeling and what my day looks like: I can work out, journal, get outside, zone out to a favorite TV show (not ideal but sometimes we just need the pattern interrupt), send a voice note to a friend while I make dinner, or listen to THIS playlist.

*I feel like need to add that if you’re struggling more than that but it’s NOT emergent, you can place a call (or text HELP) to Postpartum Support International at 1-800-944-4773. If it IS an emergency and you’re considering harming yourself or someone else, or if you’re hearing or seeing things that aren’t there, call 988 or 911.

Before breastfeeding became my career, it was the most pivotal lesson in my journey from maiden to mother. When I was pregnant with my oldest back in 2014, I took a birth class, hired a doula, and had a wonderful birth. I latched baby after delivery and fed him around the clock for weeks on end and… he still wasn’t back up to birth weight by 3 weeks. My pediatrician was unconcerned, but I had just enough information to know I was doing the “right” things, and had to wonder why I wasn’t getting the “right” results.

I went to see a hospital lactation consultant three times and, alas, they charged me $500 (that insurance refused to pay) to weigh my baby before and after a feeding and tell me he wasn’t transferring enough milk. Well, DUH. That’s why I was there. They couldn’t tell me why, barely assessed my baby at all, and sent me on my way with a plan to start triple feeding with no indications on when or how to stop triple feeding.

If you’ve ever been disappointed or disillusioned by lactation care, believe me, I’ve been there too.

But being who I am, I dug my heels in and, long story short, we figured it out. But it was so stressful for so long that I never really appreciated the bonding aspects of breastfeeding until after my baby had taken to solids and was sleeping a little better and the pressure was off of me a little bit. Around his first birthday, I was finally able to contact nap with him and bond in a way I felt like we didn’t get in his newborn days.

I thought we’d nurse for a year, but that’s when it finally got easy! We ended up going strong until he self-weaned sometime after his second birthday.

I had a lot of doubts during that experience. About my body, my abilities as a mother, my qualifications as a NICU nurse who had been caring for babies for 7 years… And while I wish I’d taken a breastfeeding class and had better support during that confusing and exhausting time, I think that one way or another I would have had to wrestle with those same doubts and lessons as I transitioned into a new stage of life.

In honor of World Breastfeeding Week, I thought it would be fun to share what I’ve personally learned from breastfeeding my own kids over the years:
I’m extra reflective because I’m 10 weeks pregnant with our fourth baby
and anticipating doing all of this one more time.

-Don’t quit on a hard day.

-If breastfeeding is painful or you’re dreading the next nursing session, reach out for help. If help isn’t helpful, keep looking until you get answers.

-Your body isn’t failing you, but it is communicating with you and you can work with that or against that.

-Your baby needs you to be self-efficacious more than they need you to feed them one certain way (but by golly I was stubborn and I wasn’t going to use formula if I didn’t have to — around 18 months I finally threw away the one bottle of “emergency” ready-to-feed formula I had kept in my diaper bag all those months).

-Nourishing yourself well is a kindness that carries over to nourishing your baby well at the breast and beyond.

-Hard things aren’t always bad things. They’re often an obstacle to work through on your way to better things.

-Eye contact and skin-to-skin contact (oxytocin) work better than herbs and foods to boost milk supply and letdown.

-When your child asks more of you, it doesn’t mean they’re too much or you’re not enough. It just means that this is your opportunity to level up.

-Taking mothers seriously includes taking yourself seriously.

-It’s okay to take a break from your kids and come back refreshed.

-God is a good, good Shepherd who gently leads those with young. It can feel easy to neglect spiritual life when there are immediate physical needs to address. But every time I run to Christ with empty hands, I return to motherhood with a full heart.

What would you add to this list?

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I’m slowly rebranding my members-only breastfeeding podcast from Earbud IBCLC to Latch Lessons. These bite-sized episodes are meant to tactically and emotionally support you through the entire breastfeeding journey, and I’m accessible in the episode comments to answer more specific questions you might have. Because nothing is more frustrating than seeking help and not getting good answers.

I recently saw a headline about how the idea of a ‘friend group’ is a fallacy and most people actually have multiple groups they move amongst and a few good individual friendships. For a long time, I mourned the loss of a group I never had. Our current house is the only place I’ve lived for more than 6 years in a row (and we haven’t even been here 7 years yet). I felt like I was always starting over, standing out, missing out.

But some friends erase all of that in an instant. Haven’t talked in 5 months? No big deal. Haven’t seen each other in two years? What is time anyway? Wondering if we can talk with kids around? Yes, because we’ve each raised children who find vintage bookstores to be just as exciting as ice cream shops.

The longer I parent, the more I learn that motherhood is only as hard as we let it be, and there’s a fine line between giving ourselves grace and doing the harder but more rewarding thing. And the right “thing” might be different on any given day. Today, hauling the kids downtown and walking 9,000 steps while talking a mile a minute was actually the more restful choice. Because when you find a friend who can converse equally enthusiastically about business strategies, the dark side of feminism, the Dunning-Krueger effect, and hard relational things, you hold on for dear life.

*Also, if you like British antiques, you should probably follow Whitney’s Substack.

But when I was done yesterday, I looked at the sink-full of dishes and my small lump of mozzarella and thought, you know, I’d really rather just pay the $10. My dad always told us that everything costs your time or your money, and that’s certainly true when it comes to feeding a family.

I grew up on whole, homemade foods, for which I’m infinitely grateful to my mom for. Twelve years into motherhood, I know that feeding a family night after night after night is certainly a labor of love, devotion, sacrifice, drudgery, creativity, pleasure, and/or satisfaction, depending on the day.

We have five good eaters in our house, most of us eat gluten-free, and I have high standards for what we eat. There was a time, particularly at the peak of our food allergy journey, when I thought I couldn’t make dinner one more time. But, because takeout wasn’t safe for my youngest, I made dinner night after night anyway. (I eventually turned my go-to recipes into a cookbook called Nourished with Nuance because, well, the struggle is real.) During that season, it also felt like our grocery budget was going to break us. I felt stuck. My allergic child (and therefore my breastfeeding self) couldn’t eat chicken, eggs, or dairy, among other things. But chicken, eggs, and dairy are often a significantly cheaper source of protein than grass-fed red meat or pastured pork. We ate A LOT of red meat circa 2022-2023.

Once I was out of fight-or-flight and grocery shopping felt less like making life-or-death decisions (if you’ve seen your child have an anaphylactic reaction, you know this is not an exaggeration), I got ahold of my grocery shopping strategies and budget. Now that I’ve been shopping this way for almost two years, I thought I’d share what’s working for us right now.

Because what used to work doesn’t really seem to work anymore. At least, you can’t assume it works and you need to run the numbers to find out if it works for your store or your geography.

They used to tell you shop the perimeter of the store, buy ingredients-only, buy the lesser cuts of meat like chuck roast and organ meats, and maybe buy half a cow every year. Well, we did all of these things exclusively in 2023 and our food budget was through the roof.

To complicate things, we live in a small town in Nebraska. There’s either a very overpriced grocery store or Walmart… or we drive into Omaha. Which is what I do 95% of the time. Because even if our Walmart does have some organic produce and occasional grass-fed beef, supply is inconsistent and prices for any pre-made gluten-free products are heavily inflated.

Here’s what I started doing to actually stick to a consistent grocery budget:

1.) Meal plan and grocery shop EVERY TWO WEEKS. Truly, this was the biggest game changer, and saves us $200-400/month compared to shopping weekly. It took a few months to finesse… making sure to front-load fresh produce in the first week and utilize more frozen produce in the second week. In the summer I can ameliorate that a bit with produce from the garden, which is nice.

2.) Planning some repeat meals two weeks in a row. This also saves some time. Like, if I’m making maple dijon chicken I will double the marinade, use half of it to cook the first batch, and freeze the second meal’s worth of chicken and marinade to make dinner next week easier.

3.) Eating more gasp processed food. But not the way you might think. Every 2-3 grocery cycles we do that payday’s shopping at Costco. They have cleaner options for pre-made food and we will usually grab Amylu’s meatballs and sausages, some Kevin’s meals, and maybe their bake-at-home dill salmon. Not, it’s not perfect, yes there are some additives. But the ingredient labels are still quite clean, and it also gives me a mental break every month and a half, where meals are no-brainers: cook a meat, a veggie, and a grain. Done.

4.) Shop at Aldi if there’s a pay period we know the budget is tighter. I’m always shocked at how relatively inexpensive an overflowing cart is at Aldi. I often stock up on grass-fed beef, organic whole chickens, organic pasta sauce, and a few other things that are significantly cheaper there. There’s not a ton of variety, so we tend to eat the same meals every time I shop at Aldi, but totally worth it to save a couple-hundred dollars.

5. ) Consider the Clean 15 and Dirty Dozen. This is a more cliched tip, and it took me a long time to come to terms with it. Partly because I know how much pesticides and herbicides can wreck our health and the environment, but also sometimes I feel like the price isn’t that different between organic and non-organic. But when I’m at Aldi, or even Costco in the depths of winter, organic fresh produce is harder to find than, for example, Natural Grocers or Whole Foods (but TBH Whole Foods’ organic options have been disappointing lately, too).

6.) Lastly, if we are coming home from being out of town or we have a really busy week, I will occasionally utilize Amazon (I know, I know) to place a Whole Foods grocery order. Whole Foods prices are so inflated, it actually still is true there that if you shop the ingredients-only around perimeter of the store and stick to store-brand items, you will save money there. But the biggest money-saving aspect here is the online cart so you can see your total before you do (or don’t) decide to get everything in your cart. And if it’s a hectic, abnormal week, we also save money compared to to-go food.

7.) I use Thrive marketplace for pantry staples. It’s simply an online grocery store, no monthly recurring shipments required or anything like that. I’m not positive this would save me money if I actually lived 5 minutes away from a Natural Grocers like I used to. But given that I don’t drive in to NG that often anymore, Thrive does save me money on things like gluten-free pasta, gluten-free crackers, healthier chocolate, beef jerky, and fun new products I’ve seen but don’t want to completely splurge on. It was also the cheapest place to get Serenity Kids’ pouches when we were buying those for a toddler. (You can save $40 on your first Thrive order with THIS link.)

8.) Every 2 weeks, I place ONE online order via Thrive and go to ONE in-person grocery store. I don’t try to price-hop and get the cheapest things at one store here and one store there. This does not ultimately save me much money, and again, time versus money becomes a diminishing return given that we have to drive 30 minutes to any other grocery store of substance, and even the grocery stores in Omaha aren’t all lined up next to each other.

Some disclaimers about what I didn’t mention here: I LOVE farmer’s markets and we used to live near one where we could significantly stock up on meat and produce. Here, despite being surrounded by farmland, our town does not have a robust farmer’s market so that’s not an option for us at this time. I do love to garden, but I’m not convinced it really saves us money per se. I think it just gives us more fresh produce for a season, and of course the health and mental health benefits of growing your own food from start to finish. Finally, I haven’t found a beef source that saves money. I think you need to raise the cow yourself or have a family connection?! Otherwise, the online sources I’ve looked into to purchase grass-fed, regenerative cow shares are not cheaper than buying the same meat weekly at the grocery store.

And… that’s it. It’s actually that simple. Today I have a poll on my Instagram stories if you want to chime in with your family size and grocery budget. I’ll update this article with those results tomorrow. In the meantime, leave a comment with your best money-saving grocery tips!

What I’m Learning

If you’ve ever tried to stand still in a wave pool or a current, you’ll understand that “standing still” is anything but still. It requires strength and endurance and the ability to think for yourself. Typing that makes me think of Isaiah 7:9, “If you do not stand firm in your faith, you will not stand at all.” I feel like I’m in a season of rediscovering WHAT I stand for and what I WILL and WILL NOT stand for.

First in my personal life, but naturally that overflows into my work life as well. I feel myself easing back from the sales side of Instagram. I have poured my heart and soul and two decades of professional experience into my work. Private practice is plenty busy because of it, but online sales ebb and flow. The transition to Patreon and away from an old business platform and partnership has been life-giving and oddly, instead of feeling like I need to sell MORE, I feel very chill about the face that my resources are available for those who need them, and I don’t have to over-explain myself or convince someone that that’s the case. Online work is WEIRD and I find myself developing a new perspective on it as of late. Not one of judgment or withdraw, but more of peace and perspective.

What I’m Reading

I got into the Emma M. Lion books a while back, but it’s been slow going since I’m relying on library holds. The series has a Jane Austen meets quirky coming-of-age novel vibe and they’re so easy and pleasant to read without being boring. I’m wrapping up book 5, and I will say it’s also nice to read a real book again. I’ve gotten quite accustomed to reading on my Kindle (with a red screen) before bed, but it’s light enough in the evening I can read actual print by sunset light and candle light!

What I’m Listening To

I am late to the game, but after hearing so many mixed opinions of Forrest Frank I just went and listened for myself. His music is so catchy and happy, I love listening to it while I work out. And it’s oddly encouraging to have lines stuck in my head all day like, “you are loved, you are chosen, your body isn’t broken.”

On My Podcast

My old newsletter was tied to my podcast, so this section is where I shared my latest episodes. But first I want to share the three guest interviews I’ve done since my last newsletter. It’s been far fewer interviews than the years prior, but they’ve been more intentional, which I feel like might as well be my word of the year this year.

Culture Apothecary: Breastfeeding is Hard — Here’s How to Actually Make it Work

The Isabel Brown Show: The Undeniable Benefits of Breastfeeding

Back to Basics: The Breastfeeding Episode Every New Mother Needs

As evidenced by the entire production team on each of these podcasts, podcasting has changed a lot since 2022 and I’ve found myself winding down on mine. (Also partly because my laptop is ancient and my small town internet is spotty.) I LOVE sharing wisdom and encouragement on-air, but in this season it’s easier and more fun to be the guest than the host. I did recently post two short episodes on Milk and Motherhood that I think are super helpful, and I’d love for you to listen and share even though they’re quite different from my longer-format interviews. I think they’re nerdy and immediately practical, in exchange.

48. Hypermobility and Breastfeeding (yes we talk practical, nutritional, and somatic/emotional aspects of this)

49. What to Expect in the First Week of Breastfeeding
    
    THIS MEANS that I have 49 podcast episodes live on Milk and Motherhood and I’d love to get it to an even 50! If you have a guest or a topic you’d like to nominate for my last episode for the foreseeable future, PLEASE comment on this post or reply to this email in your inbox!

What I’m Eating

Okayyyyy this is the inspiration for this entire email and it will not disappoint: Alec’s Pistachio Crunch ice cream. I get it locally at Whole Foods or Natural Grocers. It contains Graza olive oil, candied pistachios, A2 milk, egg yolks, and flecks of chocolate and it hits just the right balance between savory, salty, and sweet. Seriously, go get some.

Seasonal Recipe

We have been eating SO SIMPLE lately. I am historically huge on meal planning and list-making, but since we now do one big shop every two weeks on payday (seriously, took some tweaking but it definitely saves money overall) I’m a little more limited on ingredients, especially when the grocery haul is from Costco or Aldi. So I basically buy 14lbs of protein and 14 different vegetables and mix and match for dinners alongside rice or quinoa or toast or potatoes. It’s so easy and so freeing. I honestly didn’t have the luxury of doing this at the height of our food allergy days when EV.ER.Y.THING. had to be made from scratch. But now it’s so nice to pick up some Amylu’s Mexican Corn sausages and grill them up alongside a big salad for dinner on a hot night. (A moment of gratitude for sausages that contain chicken, corn, and dairy, all of which were a HARD NO for two years.)

Supplement Spotlight

I recently heard the founder of Fig prenatals on a podcast. If you have been around here for any length of time, you know that I was on the pro-metabolic beef-liver-as-a-prenatal train with my third and it’s one of my biggest regrets. After all my endo surgeries in 2024, I slowly built up my nutrient stores again with GASP a mix of synthetic and food-based supplements. Lately I’ve been feeling pretty replete and have been looking for a good multivitamin to replace the plethora of individual supplements on my counter right now. Fig not only fits the bill, but they are the FIRST prenatal I’ve seen that actually contains an appropriate amount of choline for postpartum and breastfeeding as well. I’ve been taking it for a month and it hasn’t given me any nausea or heart palpitations or other things that happen sometimes when I take a supplement that isn’t right for me. Anyway. I reached out to them and got a discount code! HAPPYMAMA will get you 10% off if you want to try them. I’m taking their NAC as well for mitochondrial and histamine support!

Parting Thoughts

This was fun to write again, just a little snapshot of life as we transition from the homeschool year to the summer schedule. I’d LOVE to hear what you’re reading, listening to, and eating this summer!

xo,

Therese

I remember my first Mother’s Day so vividly, even though it was 12 years ago. I was 8 months pregnant and bursting with anticipation to meet my baby. I was full of that pent-up end-of-pregnancy cocktail of excitement and anxiety and directionless energy. I had long since chosen my midwife and doula and had spent plenty of time with them. We’d done childbirth classes. I’d had my baby shower. I was just… waiting. My husband bought me the latest book by an author I liked and we went to brunch with my own mom. I remember being… just… so ready to meet my baby already.

Like most first time mothers, I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I am the oldest of my siblings and my eldest child is the first grandkid on both sides of our families. I had a few friends with kids ages 5 and up, but no really close friends in the baby stage. What I didn’t know was that the “I must do something” energy could have been put to use on two crucial projects (not hanging drywall and painting bedrooms like I WAS doing in our fixer-upper house).

I wish I’d taken a breastfeeding class with my husband, and I wish I’d gone balls to the wall with freezer meals. I had a wonderful pregnancy and a picture-perfect birth, but the reality of 24/7 motherhood still knocked me flat. I had a whole to-do list for maternity leave and exactly none of it gone touched. Instead I found a new full-time job that I was learning in real-time: feeding my baby and feeding myself.

Three kids and 12 years later, I’ve spent over a decade helping other moms with that same transition. Offering resources online and in-person is always a delicate balance for me. I find that I can’t do justice to breastfeeding questions in my DMs anymore and, it turns out, charging for work is always a little bit of a struggle for women who end up working to support other women. But I love to be as generous as I can, as often as I can.

Which means, OF COURSE I have all my resources available at a discount for Mother’s Day!

Here’s what I’m offering for the entire month of May:

1.) By popular request, gift cards are now available! Pay for 9 months, get 12 months of access to Earbud IBCLC. With gift card access, Patreon won’t collect your card info and won’t auto-renew when the year is up. This is perfect for a sister or close friend, but you could also buy a gift card for yourself to save a little money. The link is HERE. (Please allow 24-48 business hours after purchase for me to send your individual access code to the email you purchased with. The 12 months of access doesn’t begin until you actually click that link and sign up.)

2.) FREE postpartum cookbook PDF with purchase of Breastfeeding Foundations! Earbud IBCLC contains over ninety 5-15 minute podcast-style episodes walking you through first latch to last and EVERYTHING in between. But if you’re not sure about a membership, and you’re still waiting on baby, Breastfeeding Foundations is the perfect way to get lifetime a la carte access to the thirty episodes in the Breastfeeding Foundations module walking you very strategically through what to do and expect in the first few weeks of breastfeeding for optimal success.

3.) 40% off cookbooks! My popular PDF cookbooks are usually $24, currently marked down to $14— no code needed to get a great deal on realistic postpartum meals.

Nourished Mothers contains 42 recipes designed to support your postpartum recovery and milk supply with minimus time spent searching for ingredients or standing in the kitchen (this includes 12 step-by-step freezer meal recipes, shopping lists, and instructions to prep before baby arrives).

Nourished with Nuance contains 54 breakfast, lunch, dinner, drink, and snack recipes that are free from the top 12 infant allergens. Sometimes babies react to what we eat, and we need to pause on some foods until we figure out what’s going on at a deeper level. This cookbook was borne out of that exact season with one of my babies, and the recipes are designed for the whole family to eat without feeling like anyone is missing out.

4.) Q and A call for all Earbud IBCLC members the last Friday of May! All current members as well as anyone who joins this month will get to ask ANYTHING breastfeeding/postpartum related via Patreon DMs and I will record in-depth answers and post them at the end of the month so you can access the recording at any time. This is your chance to truly ask me anything, where I’m not constricted by story replies or character limits.

5.) Of course, I always have FREE resources for you on Instagram, in my highlight reels, and on my podcast Milk and Motherhood. At this point, I’ve also been a guest on dozens and dozens of AMAZING podcasts like Culture Apothecary and Hormone Healing RD. Type “Therese Dansby” in your podcast app, or click HERE to listen to my most popular guest interviews.

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Lastly, I’m an affiliate for several companies running Mother’s Day sales that I’ve personally already taken advantage of!

—> Subluna Botanicals is a local-to-me herbal company doing amazing things online! They rarely have sales, but the entire site is 20% off through this Friday! Right now we are loving their kids’ sleep gummies (Chill Child), men’s performance gummies (Alpha Stack), and women’s rejuvenation gummies (Beauty Babe). I’m also always taking 1-2 of their herbal tinctures to support various things. You don’t need a code, just click HERE and see the discounts applied in your cart!

—> Equip Foods has a beef protein isolate (dairy-free protein powder) that I love specifically adding to my hot coffee or to protein bites and bars. They just released a new flavor: chocolate churro in conjunction with MASA (the seed-oil-free chip company). To celebrate, they’ve unlocked my code so ANYONE can get 15% off their orders through this Friday, not just first-time buyers. Click HERE and use the code HAPPYMAMA to try any of their flavors. I love their protein bars for post-workout fuel, too.

—> Busy Bees Candle Co. is a mom-owned company I’ve been loving for the past year. Their candles are TRULY superior to other beeswax candles I’ve purchased or made, and they have a really sweet Mother’s Day gift basket for sale right now that includes a handcrafted basket, 6 tapers, 10 tea lights, a 12oz jar candle, and 2 glass candle holders. Shop HERE and use code HAPPYMAMA for a discount! I light a Busy Bees pillar candle every single evening when I’m ready before bed and it’s my favorite routine.

—> Fig prenatals — Okay this is a new one but I heard the founder on a podcast and I’m obsessed. The first prenatal that I’ve found that’s ACTUALLY adequate as a postnatal as well. I love it so much I reached out to them for a discount code. HAPPYMAMA will get you 10% off your order!

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Happy Mother’s Day to you, whether you’re filled with anticipation, decades in, or somewhere in between.

I discovered the world of natural health in my teens as I was emerging from a decidedly unhealthy season of anorexia. I’d always been a lithe, active child, young for my grade and small for my age. I didn’t know what to think when my hunger and my size increased after I turned 13. No one told me that puberty is supposed to come with some weight gain and fat deposits on my child-like hips. That someday I’d need those deposits for hormone signaling and nutrient stores and child-bearing. Of course that wasn’t on my mind as a 15-year-old coming of age. Let alone a teen coming of age in the era of heroin chic.

I wish I could send myself back in time to be the HEROINE of that story. Of course, I am the heroine of that little girl’s story story by way of growth and evolution and wisdom and maturity and hindsight. Just not in the instantaneous way I’d have preferred in those confusing times. Instead, the woman I am today was borne out of numerous health and mental health struggles between then and now.

As I came out of that season of anorexia and grew less strict about HOW MUCH I ate, I grew more strict about WHAT I ate. (That socially acceptable sin of navel-gazing we like to call orthorexia.) It really wasn’t until I underwent a grueling marital separation in my mid-twenties that I learned the expulsive power of a greater affection. I stopped focusing so much on my body and my diet as forms of perfection and I started to lean into a living God who had control over everything (and everyone) that I did not have control over.

Over the years, my legalistic mindset around food intake shifted, especially as I watched with trepidation that turned into wonder as my body grew my first two babies, expanded, birthed, fed them, and returned to baseline on autopilot while I was going about the business of learning how to be a mother. After my third baby, I did briefly and naturally get back to my birth weight, but I had lost so much blood, and I went into that pregnancy already so depleted, that my energy stores were tanked.

You know what gives you energy? Food. And you know what happens when you have an excess of energy intake and it’s not balanced by your energy output? You gain weight. It doesn’t matter that it was deeply nourishing, nutrient-dense food, prepared at home, seasonal and well-sourced. Over the past four years as I recovered from postpartum hemorrhage and then endometriosis surgery, I was more sedentary than I’d ever been and quickly became heavier than I’d ever been. I’m not entirely sure there was a way around it. I didn’t feel like I was eating in excess, and I needed to replenish after my body had been through so much. I didn’t have the energy stores to balance the intake with activity. After my PPH (2022) and again after endo surgeries (2024), I could barely walk around the block. As a former athlete who enjoyed moving, I have never been so physically humbled as I have been these last few years starting truly from scratch with my physical fitness not once, but twice.

But I didn’t realize how much weight I’d truly gained, or how truly ungainly it was, until I intentionally started to shed those pounds last spring. I’ve been surprised at the body image issues that have resurfaced as I peel back the layers and revisit weights that meant different things at different points in my life. Before my third baby, I had basically maintained a healthy weight for a decade with no scale and no tracking. Even with my first two babies, and a miscarriage in between, my weight fluctuated in a textbook way, always returning to baseline. Then my weight crept up when we moved to a new town right before COVID lockdowns. Crept up again with infant food allergy stress and sleep deprivation. And crept up again with iron deficiency and postpartum depletion and endometriosis/MCAS flares and surgery recovery.

Going back to tracking my food and my weight when I hired a coach this past winter was scary at first, but then became normal. It wasn’t until my four months of coaching ended and the coach* left me hanging without a plan or a transition to maintenance (not for a lack of me requesting that info) that I started to spiral.

Some women face their eating disordered past when they deal with pregnancy or postpartum, or infant food allergies and dietary restriction. For me, pregnancy and postpartum felt healing and awe-inspiring. Infant food allergies and dietary elimination were stressful but it was also a puzzle and a challenge to identify and remove trigger foods. It was a joy and privilege to figure out how to breastfeed in a way that didn’t make anyone miserable. So much so that I wrote a guide and cookbook for other moms navigating something similar.

For me, it was dropping excess weight 3 years after my third baby that showed me how much I’d gained, and revealed I still have some more healing to do in regards to how I see, and therefore treat, my body.

I have been aware of my evolution from food as the enemy to food as fuel. Then food as medicine, minerals, even pleasure and connection and community. What I’m seeing now is that I still never stepped outside of that black and white entanglement of food and body, body and food.

My body was my home and my friend in childhood. I experienced everything through it: the red warmth of the sun on my skin in the summer, the crystalline tingle of snow falling on my face in the winter. The joy of a bite of cold ice cream on a hot day, and warm soup filling my belly on a cool one.

I went from seeing body as cohesive and experiential in childhood to body as separate and adversarial in adolescence. That dichotomy continued to run as an undercurrent to all my health issues, coming to a head each month with the misery that was my period, heavy and painful from the get-go at age 13. It was no great loss to lose my period during my year of anorexia. And it was a great disappointment when it came back with a vengeance when my cycle returned. Of course, OF COURSE, the ability to have babies felt like it justified the pain for a time. Until the pain slowly crept into more and more days of the month and fertility felt like a curse that outweighed its benefits (and I LOVE my children, so I had to be pretty miserable to come to this conclusion). This shouldn’t have to be miserable, right?

My human experience IN my womanly body and how I treated my earthy vessel felt like a mismatch for decades. Healthy food in, artificial fragrances out. High-quality supplements in, lifestyle toxins out. Mental and emotional growth in, trauma responses out. But it kept not matching. The outcomes I expected from the actions I was taking didn’t materialize. My cycles are much better after my endometriosis surgeries (see my last post or this podcast episode or this one), but I couldn’t tell you if that was a cause or an effect of the actual decision I finally made to get help and do the thing I’d been avoiding.

This conversation about “gains and drains” finally started to shift my perspective. In several areas of my life over the years, I’ve participated in x assuming it was going to lead to y, but it repeatedly, assuredly was not working out that way. So I had to look at what y was telling me. Weirdly, I had already done this by moving forward with my surgeries two years ago and I guess I thought that was a one-and-done kind of decision. But I had to make the same kind of decision in terms of intentionally letting go of the extra pounds I’d picked up in my effort to buffer life’s hardness and my physical lack of energy. And again with my approach to my work and what I thought I wanted that to look like. And again with home education and my activity level and my interactions with my husband… Suddenly the mismatches were lighting up everywhere, like a game of whack-a-mole.

In terms of surgery, I couldn’t tell you for sure if it was my surgeries and iron infusions, or the fact that I stood up for myself and advocated and made my voice heard because I was no longer going to tolerate the way I felt, that made the shift in my energy levels. Action and intent are so intertwined, really, and they feed off of each other. A shift in perspective gives you the energy to change something. Changing some physical input changes how you think and feel. Thinking more clearly and feeling better leads to healthier actions, and so on and so forth.

My lifestyle and my human experience felt at odds with each other for a long, long time. I’m only very recently realizing that there have been some key components of a “healthy” lifestyle that I had thought I was doing well, but I’m realizing have been totally out of alignment with what my body needs.

Now I feel like I’m stepping outside of the “healthy living” or “clean eating” or “holistic lifestyle” or “crunchy mom” paradigm altogether and realizing that there are a whole host of things that bring energy and nourishment to one’s life and healthy food and low-tox-living are just two of those things. Not all morality is relative, but certainly the idea of what’s “healthy” is more relative than I thought. In the same way that breastfeeding success is more than just checking off one 20 minute feeding session every three hours, healthy living is not going to look exactly the same from person to person. The fundamentals, sure. But the dose and strength of the inputs required vary from person to person and season to season. As my mentor says, how you do one thing is how you do everything, and the more I sit with that the more I see how true it is. I have a history of pushing through because something SHOULD be working instead of stepping back and asking why it’s not working.

All that to say, I’ll share what else brings me energy, since the list is relatively simple. But the specifics of how or how much one person needs each of these will, of course, be a personal experiment.

Things that give me energy (aka LIFE) that don’t involve food
(in no particular order):

-water (drinking, bathing, or swimming)
-coffee (the caffeine, the ritual, and the experience)
-herbs (the taste and the medicinal benefits)
-sunshine (different benefits at different times throughout the day and year)
-fresh air (I always underestimate this one)
-feet or hands in the dirt (ditto… and there’s research to back this)
-human connection (joy as well as co-regulation)
-Bible study (the Word of God is living and active— Hebrews 4:12)
-journaling (in which I respect myself enough to have a conversation instead of just pushing through or living on autopilot)
-creativity (learning, writing, crafting with my kids, baking something new)
-reading for fun (broadens my perspective, engages my mind or gives it a break)
-movement (I put this on the back burner for too long instead of finding something that worked with me instead of against me)
-breath (my default is to breathe so shallow)
-mineral and vitamin supplements (the right ones can make a huge difference, and only I can really know what the right ones are)

I won’t pretend it’s not intimidating, to admit that what I insisted was SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING for years was not, indeed, working. But the good thing about getting older is that experience gives you more evidence. Have I ever regretted a difficult season that asked me to change how I approached something? No. But also, maybe not everything good has to be hard. The thing is, these inputs I listed above are all pleasurable things. They don’t involve strife or overthinking. Most don’t even involve money or much effort, aside from the decision to do the thing. My motto for 2026 is to let it be easeful. Life isn’t always easy, but how we carry any given burden changes how heavy it feels. In this season, I’m choosing (and failing and choosing again) to let it be light (there are a lot of metaphors I’ll let you connect to my choice of words there).

Hugs to everyone out there experiencing a similar revolutionary-but-not approach to healthy living.

*The weight loss coach I used this winter was ultimately not a good fit for me. Yes, I got results, but at the expense of my mental health and leptin levels. I wish I’d gotten over myself and realized that I wasn’t “too far postpartum” to benefit from someone who works with postparptum women specifically. Once I get my leptin back up, I will be working with Megan Brister. This isn’t an ad or sponsored post, but here’s a podcast interview I did with her about postpartum weight loss and I continue to feel like she has the most balanced, realistic, healthy approach to intentional weight loss for postpartum or breastfeeding moms.

I wrote an essay back in January entitled, “What am I Even Doing on the Internet?” I was fresh off an 8 week mentorship, had been logged off on Instagram for several weeks, and I felt like my creativity was exploding and life was finally falling into place. I thought I knew where part two of that essay was going, but it didn’t anticipate it taking three months to get there.

When I wrote part one, I was accepting of the fact that this is not the season for growing an online business or even maintaining my own podcast (although I LOVE the interviews I’ve gotten to do and I still refer clients to them for deeper dives). I’m good at working with moms 1:1 and the ROI time-wise makes more sense for where I’m at in a busy life phase in which I’m also homeschooling my children, leading a co-op, active in Bible study, and working PRN at the hospital.

Posting online, feeling discouraged at my lack of reach, having coaches tell me I’ll only make sales by hounding people in the DMs which I refuse to do… it was wearing me down, making me feel disingenuous, and making me sound… I don’t even know. Not the way I want to sound.

I don’t like social selling. There, I said it. And trying to find a work-around or a sales strategy or a conversion strategy that felt less like what it was, was draining my vitality. So I did something unconventional. I moved all of my paid content to a platform that does not require money to maintain. It’s probably weird that I’m telling you that. But it makes a huge difference to me. Because…

1.) I’m not sharing something to recoup costs, but rather because I worked hard to create resources that meet moms where they’re at in their postpartum and breastfeeding journey.

2.) It allows me to be generous with pricing (my time, knowledge, and expertise are not free, but my platform is).

3.) The pressure is off. I don’t have to make enough to pay the platform host every month (although they do take a % of my earnings).

For someone who is hypersensitive to inauthenticity, these things makes a big difference.

SO. There I was in January, making big business decisions, feeling more aligned, feeling bummed but clear that I was closing the door on intentional online growth, I wrote part one of a series that I was sure I’d wrap up the following week. In my mentorship group (LIFE mentorship, not business mentorship) last fall, Michale Chatham talked a lot about how people don’t grow via “move away from” strategies, but rather from “move toward” strategies.

In other words, it’s fine to know what you don’t want, but to get somewhere new you have to know what you do want. Even if what you want changes along the way, it gives you a direction to start out in. When I wrote “What am I Even Doing on the Internet,” I knew I didn’t want to continue working with the same busy-ness strategies I had been, and I didn’t want to splinter my attention and fracture my focus and break my brain and strain my eyes and dump dopamine with mindless scrolling in the name of building an online business.

So that’s what I’m not doing on the internet. I’m not mindlessly consuming. But what am I creating? What AM I doing?

I thought I had an answer to that: I’m doing very little online. I’m letting that online sales dream die. I’m focusing on in-person work and not online work. (Oh my gosh, typing that out I can see it’s still so much “away from” language.)

But I KID YOU NOT, the day after I posted part one of this essay, I logged onto Instagram super quick to check something I promised someone I’d do, and I had a DM inviting me to be on a podcast and that threw me into an existential crisis.

Now, I get podcast pitches in my email all the time. Usually it’s people wanting to be on MY podcast, and usually I know immediately that they don’t care about me, don’t follow me, and don’t know anything about me because the pitch comes to my personal email, which I (rookie mistake) used to link to my Spotify Creator account years ago. I assume some podcast pitch website somewhere has access to that info and sells it to other people. YAY. But I quickly learned that the REAL pitches come to my work email. These are people who have visited my website, interacted with me on social media, or worked with me in real life.

Anyway, I don’t normally get pitches in my DMs. So this podcast pitch. It sounds authentic and human-written, but it’s in my DMs! And the minuscule profile pic looks so picture-perfect, surely it’s fake! I was just about to click out of my DMs when I decided to click on the profile picture instead.

Then I realized why her profile picture was so polished. She wasn’t a bot, she was a LEGIT PROFESSIONAL. With 1.2 million Instagram followers?! Who is this?! It took me about two seconds of internet sleuthing to realize exactly who she was, exactly who she worked for, and what connections we had that she’d even think about inviting me to join her on her podcast. Cue the existential panic!

What an opportunity! They want to interview me? But I just quit the internet! Is this Satan tempting me? Is this God testing me? Thankfully I immediately reached out to several friends and they talked me down. “Tell me you said yes.” “You’re going to say yes, right?” “Of course I know who she is! This is amazing!” You’d think an unsolicited invitation would have vanquished imposter syndrome forever, but it weirdly did the opposite. I was, frankly, uncomfortable receiving something I didn’t feel like I’d earned (lightbulb moment.)

So I did pray about it. And I talked with my husband. And shared with my Bible study. And I did accept the invitation.

It’s been a long 12 weeks since that invite. For a while, simply getting the interview scheduled was a comedy of errors with an ice storm in Nashville, and the producer mistyping my email address, then Gmail “helpfully” filtering out my email reply to the producer. Then it got down to the wire (no pun intended) and plane tickets were unobtainable on my budget. I told them we’d just have to schedule in March so I had time to drive down, and they said, hey, we’ll cover the cost of your flights next week if you’re still available.

So. There I was. In Nashville, at the end of February, for a major podcast interview. It was all just so fated, so out of my hands, so bizarre and not like my normal life, that I had gotten to the point where I felt like I had no agenda, nothing to sell, nothing that someone else couldn’t also say, so it was going to have to come from God. I prayed, “Lord, open my lips and my mouth will declare your praise.”

I’m writing this in the time between sitting down for the interview and it being published. I felt terrified in the hair and makeup chair, at peace during the interview, and giddy afterwards, but I have no idea if I said anything of substance. It’s always interesting to re-listen to interviews. The things I do remember saying are usually just little blips, and often I’m totally surprised by other things I said. When I’m re-listening to myself I can also pick up on overarching threads that I wasn’t conscious I was weaving together at the time.

Even on this end of the interview, it’s been a roller coaster: I thought the episode would be published on March 13. Then April 3. Now supposedly April 10. It’s almost like it’s changed so much just to prove a point that was already true from the get-go because this isn’t my podcast: It’s out of my hands, silly!

So even though the whole experience felt so fated, I came home and fell back into old patterns. I’ve got to make sure all my socials look good, and my offers are clear, and my audience is engaged. Yes, some of that is simply being a courteous and professional podcast guest. But my heart posture was also frantic. Fearful I was going to miss out on something. The week before Easter I finally came to my senses. How could I MISS something that had ALREADY been freely given to me by a Good Father? I repented and journaled and thanked God and deleted Instagram for Easter weekend. It’s enough. I’ve done enough. The testimonials I have from the women who have engaged with my work is enough. Impact > Instagram views. This work will be furthered through authenticity or not at all, and I’m willing to hold either loosely.

I genuinely mean that, and it feels good to say it. I don’t think God has TESTED me through this, but I think that this roller-coaster of an experience has given me a chance to test what I thought I believed and thought I wanted to see if it was genuine. I’ve noticed that when you try to make a change, your old life, habits, and patterns will try to pull you back into a familiar ways of doing things.

This has shown me that I no longer want to be comfortable in complacency. I want to have a heart posture of openness, I want to do the things that are just a little outside my comfort zone, I want to try new things for the sake of the experience and not for what I might get out of it. And I want to show up online when it feels authentic and not because I have an agenda.

Because I am still (barely) in the same life phase as many of my clients, and because I’ve been working with moms and babies for 19 years, I do think of post ideas based off of real-life scenarios all the time. So I’ll keep posting those things. But I will have a content calendar to give myself guardrails. And I will set a timer when I open Instagram on those days so that I can guarantee I’m creating more than I’m consuming. And it will be respectful of YOUR time, because if I’m posting there (or writing here), it’s not because I should, but because something was on my heart to create or share.

So, that’s what I’m doing online. I’m talking about things I love and things I’m learning, for the sake of creativity and community. I’ll post about my resources from time to time because I created them from a place of resourcefulness based off of gaps I see in my real-life work, not from a place of monetizing an audience. And all the while, I’ll be resourcing myself so I’m not so susceptible to my old patterns while I’m creating new rhythms.

(I’m talking a lot about this podcast interview, only because it’s a new perspective on something I’ve done dozens of times before. This whole experience has been a gift. What the gift is and who it’s for remains to be seen, but I can truly say I’m glad it’s out of my control. God’s gifts are better than my plans anyway.)

I grew my babies through marital reconciliation and home renovations and mold in the walls and infant food allergies and major life changes and “low sleep needs.” Through moving and quarantining and loneliness. Through extreme pain and heavy periods that got worse after every child. Through bone-deep fatigue. Through lots of doctors telling me that “everything was in my head” because my labs were normal, and then doctors clearly not knowing how to help when my labs were NOT normal.

I tried all the diets, the herbs, the acupuncture, the chiropractor. And when I say tried, I mean I was all-in for at least a year. And by “tried” I mean tried and failed. In 2023, I was such a shell of myself that I knew drastic measures were needed. I demanded the care I’d been denied. Yes, I want you to do the surgery even if you don’t think I have endometriosis. Yes, I want you to order an iron infusion even though I blatantly refused the last time you offered. Yes, I want surgery even though I’m terrified. Continuing to live the way I was feeling was finally the more terrifying option. There are no words to describe how tired I was. How not-myself I was. How desperate I was. That desperation was teetering on the edge of feeling like my family would be better off without me, and that scared me.

In November 2023, I had a D and C for a thickened endometrial lining that turned into a diagnosis of endometritis. I took the antibiotics, took the antifungals, got an iron infusion, and had a diagnostic laparoscopy to look for endometriosis (even though my endo specialist really didn’t think I had it). I woke up from my 90-minute surgery to the most validation I’ve ever had from any doctor. Everywhere I’d circled a “pain hot spot” on a drawing of the female pelvis, she found deep infiltrating endometriosis. Stage 3. Plus lots of smaller lesions everywhere else. Way too much endo to remove in the 90 minute OR slot she’d given me. I’d need two more surgeries to remove it all the right way, minimizing the risk of scar tissue or recurrence.

Finally an answer for the inflammation, the pain, the bleeding, the fatigue, even the brain fog. There was actually so much going on that I ended up needing three more surgeries over the following 6 months. I got worse before I got better. Recovery asked so much of my already-depleted body. The anesthesia triggered a terrible flair of what I now know is MCAS. I got more iron infusions. I started low-dose-naltrexone (LDN). I rested. I asked for help. I sent my oldest child to school that year so I didn’t have as heavy a homeschool burden. I started a hospital job to offset the stress of needing to make a certain amount of money in my private practice. I prayed in desperation for friends and community and slowly, ever so slowly, the tide turned.

I had to stare the pain in the eyes. I had to face my fears. I had to advocate at a level above and beyond anything I’d ever done. I had to fill out hundreds of pages of financial aid papers, spend thousands of dollars on medical bills. It spiraled into more and more effort required of me until the mental load peaked, and the ball started to roll down the other side of the hill. No longer a barren, cold, uphill climb, but a downstream meander. Effort still required, but aided by the momentum of that climb, that season of advocacy, the work I put in just to take the next step. Now, the effort is making me stronger instead of depleting me.

I don’t know what kind of mortal gasp gave me the momentum to get through that season. I often think that I was only able to do all of that because I didn’t know what I was getting into. Made possible by the tunnel vision of chronic fatigue and the dissociation that comes from years of chronic pain, maybe. I thought I had one surgery to get through. Then one iron infusion. Then two more surgeries. Then three iron infusions. Then one last surgery. Then all the PT and OT and lab work and medication and temporary hormone replacement to get me back to the baseline I’d been at pre-surgery (which was NOT a sustainable baseline in and of itself).

Then the going got a little easier. Then I wasn’t just recovering, I was maintaining. Then I wasn’t just maintaining my health, I was improving it. I wasn’t just a victim of my health, I was the captain of my ship again. Then I wasn’t just thinking about how unhappy I was with my weight, I was actively able to do something about it. I wasn’t just avoiding harm, I was actively helping. The difference between “move towards” and “move away from” has never been more stark. Now I have seen so much improvement in my periods, and I’m asking how I can improve it even more. If your menstrual cycle is a vital sign, mine is still telling me something is out of alignment and I’m starting to have an inkling of what that is (that’s a different essay).

This spring marks TWO YEARS since that dark season of surgery after surgery and the start of a long recovery that is still in progress. I feel so much better. I’m thinking so much more clearly. And I’m far enough removed that I am starting to grieve for who I was then. How much I was hurting. How lonely I was. How bad things had gotten.

Of course, in the 22 months between my postpartum hemorrhage and my first endo surgery, no one told me, “you look unhealthy,” or, “you’ve gained weight,” or, “I’m worried about you.” I had a few friends who bore with me through that season, probably because they’d known me prior to that dark descent. But now, strangers start conversations with me when they didn’t previously. Acquaintances are more friendly One friend told me, “I was so worried about you back then that I mentioned it to our doctor.” My mom has said several things lately that she told me she didn’t feel like I was “ready to hear” back then. I only realize how not myself I was in contrast to how much better I feel now.

Plenty of people HAVE told me recently, “you look great!” “Have you lost weight?” “How did you do it?” I’m not offended by these comments, the retrospective ones or the current ones, but I’m so very saddened by them. Sad for me because it wasn’t in my head at all: my suffering was very real and my isolation was not imagined. As Forrest Frank says, man, I was stuck. I’m also so very deeply sad for those who never got out of their dark days, at least not in this life.

I’ve lost two friends in the last 6 months. One to a hereditary stroke disorder that took his life quickly and unexpectedly last fall. And last week, my holistic, homeschooling, God-fearing, crunchy mom friend went home to the Lord after a brief but brutal battle with stage 4 cancer. Why them? Why was I given healing in this life and they were not? Both friends were arguably more healthy than me. Mindful of food and movement and lifestyle. Active, vibrant members of their communities, leaving a tangible hole in the web of many lives.

Memento mori has never weighed more heavily on my mind than it has in the last 4 years (after my postpartum hemorrhage), 2 years (surgeries), 6 months (losing one friend), and Easter week (losing another). Remember, O man, that dust thou art, and to dust thou shalt return.

I just started reading The Little Pilgrim’s Big Journey with my kids and the picture of Christian, weighed down by his burdens in the Slough of Despond, is a visceral sensation for me. I’ve been in the pit, and I only know that I’m out of it because my body reminds me when I start treading on that boggy ground again and slipping back into habits that don’t serve me, mental battles that can’t be won, or arguments that aren’t worth having. Because under these physical changes are, of course, mental, emotional, and spiritual habits that are still new, still being reinforced. I can choose survivor’s guilt. Or I can choose gratitude. This morning, sitting on my porch, face turned toward a sunrise I didn’t earn or deserve, I chose gratitude.

Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

Oh death! Where is your sting?
Oh hell! Where is your victory?
Oh Church! Come stand in the light
The glory of God has defeated the night

“I had no idea breastfeeding was so hard.”
“Can I take you home with me?”
“I wish I’d taken a breastfeeding class.”
“I thought this was going to come naturally.”

Then, of course, there are the questions parents would already know the answer to if they had taken a breastfeeding class before birth:

“How do I know he’s getting enough?”
“When does my milk come in?”
“Do I need to have formula at home just in case?”

Last weekend, I spent some extra time with a couple who had made it through the first 48 hours of breastfeeding and realized they had a bunch of questions about what to expect when they left the hospital. The mom said, “can I just put you in my pocket and bring you home with me?”

Since this was a hospital shift and not a home visit, I couldn’t tell her, “well, actually…” But here’s the thing. This is not a new request. It’s a common one. And I found a way to answer it.

YES you can have me in your back pocket. I can answer your questions about engorgement at 3am. I can give you a pep/prep talk for how quickly breastfeeding changes day by day in the first week. I can coach you through the options for introducing solids at 6 months. I can walk you through clogged ducts so they don’t turn into mastitis.

And the best part is, it’s not via an online course. Earbud IBCLC is all via audio/video episodes like your favorite podcast. And, of course, I am actually accessible via the comments section if an episode doesn’t answer your specific question about that subject.

Because the thing is, I can’t breastfeed for you. But I can equip you to do the work. I can hold your hand through the hard-but-good of it all. And I can give you the parameters for what’s normal and safe and give you options for how to navigate your particular struggle in a way that feels right for you.

I was a NICU nurse before becoming a mother. Feeding a baby was orderly, precise, concise, and matter-of-fact. Bottle volumes were based on daily weight checks. Calories were added to pumped breastmilk. Babies were weighed before and after breastfeeding sessions. There were daily weight gain thresholds. Everything was quantitative.

Then I had my first baby, breastfed on demand for 30 minutes every 3 hours, checked the boxes, counted the diapers, and realized I’d totally lost the plot when he wasn’t back up to birth weight by two weeks. I was still in nurse-brain mode and not mom mode. Breastfeeding is qualitative. Subjective. Intuitive.

But we live in a society where breastfeeding to a year, let alone two years like the WHO and AAP recommend, is rare at best, shameful at worst. Generational wisdom has been lost. Bottles are the norm.

So I combined my experience as a nurse with my journey as a new mother and found a new way forward, becoming an IBCLC (International Board Certified Lactation Consultant) in the process.

I never did use that “emergency” bottle of ready to feed formula I kept in my diaper bag for the first year of motherhood. I’ve spent the last eleven years breastfeeding my three babies between 2.5 - 3.5 years each and I’ve been practicing as an IBCLC for ten of those years, helping over 2,000 other moms breastfeed along the way.

I created an online breastfeeding course back in 2021 but courses are too expensive, too clunky, and too tedious.

So I recently converted my course material to an audio/video podcast format, added more troubleshooting for help after baby is born, and added my trademark-pending framework for working through breastfeeding issues. No portal logins, no laptop required. You can pop your (wired… IYKYK) earbuds in and listen to the episodes sequentially, getting a thorough prenatal breastfeeding education while you drive to work or take a walk after dinner.

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I know you’re probably thinking that something that costs $9/month can’t possibly be that helpful. Every. Single. Professional who has previewed Earbud IBCLC has told me in no uncertain terms that I’m WAY undercharging for it. Here’s the thing: postpartum moms are being sold to left and right and I’m sensitive to that because I’m in that season with you.

You need very few things to have a baby: a birth team, a carseat, diapers, some onesies, a safe place for baby to sleep, and a way to feed your baby.

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I hate being salesy, but I’m so excited about this resource and I want to be better about spreading the word. Take advantage of the founding members price and join the 24 other women already enrolled! I guarantee you’ll learn something new. And there’s no minimum requirement, so you can also come and soak everything up and unenroll before the next billing period for a true steal of a deal if that’s your jam ;-)

If you have questions, you can reply directly to this email and I’m happy to answer! Or you can find me on Instagram @ happy.mama.healthy.baby or the Milk and Motherhood podcast on your favorite podcast app.

“And having come in, the angel said to her, “Rejoice, highly favored one, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women!” But when Mary saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and considered what manner of greeting this was. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid.”

Imagine knowing and lowing the stories of the Old Testament. The miracles, the desert seasons, the God who makes promises and follows through.

Then imagine an angel of the Lord comes to YOU and says God himself is with you. Gabriel greets Mary as highly favored. The Greek word for favored, xapitów (charitóo), is a perfect passive participle, meaning something like, “one who has been completely and permanently endowed with grace.” Its root word, xápis (charis), means gift. So the angel isn’t just saying hello. He’s naming Mary as a vessel and endowing her with a gift she could not manufacture on her own. God is not just with her, he is within her.

Highly favored, the Lord is with you, blessed are you. The Greek word for blessing means to consecrate, or to bless something to God’s use, not just “to give.” It’s a verb, not an adjective like we use it today when we say we are blessed.

It’s no wonder Mary is alarmed by this very literal greeting! Luke 1:29 more accurately says Mary was wholly disturbed and agitated by the angel’s greeting and deliberated with herself what was meant by it. The angel sees this and says, “do not be afraid, you have found favor with God.” He tells her she will conceive and bear a child and his name will be Jesus. She would have known that the name itself mean “Jehovah is salvation.”

She asks, pragmatically, “how can this be? I’m a virgin.” The angel says, “the same way in which Elizabeth, who was called barren, has conceived in her old age. Nothing is impossible with God!”

Mary replies, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word.” And the angel departed from her.

The Greek word for maidservant is pronounced doulē. While this is the root word for “doula,” the role has evolved . In the time of Mary, a Greek doulē was a servant of the house, an imposed vocation of presence with humility, nearness, and faithfulness.

Mary calls herself a maidservant, but this doesn’t mean she’s passive or resigned. She consents as an active participant, saying, “let this new reality be born in me.”

In fact, the word for “God’s word” in this verse is the same word used in the verse before it when the angel says Elizabeth is pregnant because nothing is impossible for God. The literal translation of Luke 1:37 says, “every word God speaks has power.” God’s word does not describe reality so much as it creates reality. And now, in the person of Jesus, God’s word IS reality.

In the Gospels, we see that Peace is a PERSON and Mary and her cousin have both been notified that despite all odds they are the next chapters in His story. Instead of questioning what God said like Eve did, Mary and Elizabeth humbly rejoice.

Imagine, instead of two women co-miserating about the trials of pregnancy, two women lit up with joy over the miracle of it all. “God has done the wildest thing in my life. You too?!”

In Luke 1:25 Elizabeth says, “the Lord has done this for me. In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.” But instead of making the story about her, and letting Mary’s miracle diminish her own, she doubles her joy when she celebrates with Mary. “Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her!”

The Word has put on flesh. Peace has inhabited the earth as promised and His right of joy has begun, with two women humbly submitting to the vocation of birthing God’s word into reality.

When it comes, Christmas is a day celebrating seemingly impossible dualities: an immaculate conception and a human birth. The King of Kings, asleep in the hay. Mary and Joseph having internal confidence in their parts in this story, but aware of the outward scrutiny and skepticism of the way things appear to be happening.

Jesus is born, the angles rejoice, and the shepherds search for proof of this good news of great joy for all people after 400 years of Biblical silence. But Mary is in the sacred pause after birth when time stops and the body and mind have to catch up with the enormity of what just happened.

The shepherds spread the word and glorify God for what they have seen and heard. And Mary, in contrast to the joyful song she shares with Elizabeth in Luke 1, now takes it all in quietly: the multiple data points adding up, the awe that it was, in fact, done according to God’s word. It’s all happening.

Mary ponders these things. She holds them in her heart, letting the pregnant pause expand her belief, accept what’s been done, wrap her head around what will continue to be asked of her. Perhaps she’s contemplating the internal fortitude it will take to hold the big picture in mind and still attend to all the hourly needs of an infant. The postpartum bleeding. The cluster feeding. The nights spent with her baby on her chest, staring into his eyes, wrapping her head around the enormity of how this tiny human could be fully human and fully divine. So fragile, so vulnerable. So powerful, so humble. So new, so ancient.

She takes it all in, one breath at a time. She treasures the sights, the sounds, the words, the story as it unfolds.

INHALE: I am the maidservant of the Lord.

EXHALE: Let it be done unto me according to your word.

No matter what this day holds for you, be it unmet longings or hopes fulfilled, know that God holds you.

And today we celebrate that, for a brief moment in time, Mary housed God with Us beneath her own heart, slowly become aware that a mother’s love for her child is only a pale reflection of God’s love for us.

(Biblical scholars, please forgive me, the Greek characters didn’t want to copy and paste as characters, but you get the idea.)

I was an in-person guest on the Culture Apothecary podcast last summer and it was so so stressful. Like, so cool but so nerve wracking. Over the next few months I actually decided to wind down a lot of my online work and focus more on in-person clients and, of course, homeschooling my kids.

A few weeks ago, truly out of the blue, I got invited to be on a much bigger podcast. They even offered to pay for my plane ticket. It was an easy yes, but also a little baffling.

For the last week, I’ve been praying, “oh Lord, open my lips and my mouth will declare your praise.” Like really though, what do I have to say that someone else can’t say?

So I got to Nashville Tuesday night and the kids had put notes in my suitcase. My daughter’s note was just copywork of some verses from Jeremiah “because she thought I’d like it.”

Jeremiah 1:4-10, to be precise ⤵️

“Then the word of the Lord came to me, saying: ‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; Before you were born I sanctified you; I ordained you a prophet to the nations.’ Then said I: ‘Ah, Lord God! Behold, I cannot speak, for I am a youth.’ But the Lord said to me: ‘Do not say, ‘I am a youth,’ For you shall go to all to whom I send you, And whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of their faces, For I am with you to deliver you,’ says the Lord. Then the Lord put forth His hand and touched my mouth, and the Lord said to me: ‘Behold, I have put My words in your mouth.’” 🤯

I mean, I’m not exactly a youth. And I’m no prophet either. But I felt very small in this hair and makeup chair in a Very Big Studio with Very Important People. I completely lost my train of thought twice. I trust they’ll edit that out, but I also trust that even though I didn’t use the notes I painstakingly made, I still said what needed to be said.

Phew. This year I’m practicing doing things with joy and without expectation. This was fun way to kick off the year.

I threw these together today and after one bite realized I needed to capture the recipe so I could repeat it. These flavors bring together the promise of warmer days with the comfort we need on colder ones.

Triple Berry Muffins

makes 18 muffins

Ingredients

1 cup Pamela’s gluten free flour blend
1 1/2 cups One Degree Organic oats
1 1/2 cups Kalona Mixed Berry Kefir**
1 Tbs ground flaxseed
1/4 cup whey (or 1 Tbs white vinegar and 3 Tbs water)
2 Tbs water
—
1/4 cup whole milk
1/3 cup coconut sugar
1/3 cup melted butter
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 cup frozen mixed berries

Instructions

1. Combine the first half of the ingredients (flour, oats, kefir, flax, whey, water) in a glass bowl, mix well, cover, and allow to sit for several hours or overnight. This soaks the grains to make them easier to digest and makes the nutrients more bioavailable!

2. Preheat the oven to 350 F.

3. Into the fermented mixture, stir in the whole milk, sugar, butter, vanilla, baking soda, and salt.

4. Gently fold in 3/4 cup frozen berries (I used half raspberries and half wild blueberries).

5. Scoop into lined muffin tins and bake for 25-28 minutes.

Substitutions:
* If you are not gluten free, I recommend using a whole wheat flour here in place of the GF blend.
* If you can’t find berry kefir, add 1/4 cup crushed raspberries to the batter when mixing in the eggs and butter.

Nutritional info:
140 calories // 5g protein // 5g fat // 19g carbs // 2g fiber

This recipe was such a happy accident after finding that kefir at the store, but it makes the berry flavor so pronounced that each bite really is just delightful. I hope you enjoy!

(If you’re looking for more quick, easy, and nutrient-dense postpartum-friendly recipes, you can find my PDF cookbooks HERE.)

This week marks the downhill shift into spring and winter is halfway over. Here in the Midwest, as if on cue, the sun came out yesterday and the ten day forecast no longer contained a single negative temperature. The gardener in me grew giddy at the idea of starting to select my seeds for spring, but the scholar in me wondered why I had never noticed the parallels between Imbolc (the halfway point between the first day of winter and the first day of spring) and Candlemas before. I’m not here to justify a pagan holiday, but life is seasonal and it’s not a coincidence that both of these holidays celebrate the coming of the light at this time year. It’s given me a lot of food for thought in the last 24 hours.

A few months ago, our pastor presented a theory I had never heard before: that potentially we celebrate Christmas on December 25 because in Jesus’ time, birth dates weren’t noted. They were simply extrapolated to be 9 months (and however many years) before the person’s date of death. He couched it as one of many theories, so I’m not saying it’s a solid fact. But it got me thinking, as someone who is familiar with cycle charting and due date extrapolating: that means that we celebrate the Annunciation (when Mary famously said, “let it be done to me according to your will”) right around the same time of year when we celebrate Jesus’ death and resurrection.

I was a faithful cradle Catholic for decades and have recently converted (with my Southern Baptist husband) to the LCMS, so I’m no stranger to church holidays. But somehow the synchronicity of Easter and the Annunciation has never stood out to me until now. And that same juxtaposition of life and death comes today as well, on Candlemas, when we celebrate the presentation of Jesus at the temple 40 days after his birth.

Luke 2:22-24 says, “when the time came for the purification rites required by the Law of Moses, Joseph and Mary took Jesus to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the Law, ‘every firstborn male is to be consecrated to the Lord’), and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law of the Lord: a pair of doves or two young pigeons.”

In Mosaic law, a woman was considered unclean when bleeding. This wasn’t a sinful uncleanliness, but a ritual one due to blood and bodily fluids. Far from rejecting her femininity, the law is protecting it, keeping her close to home for at least 6 weeks postpartum. And when she does venture out, she’s with her baby and her husband and her first order of business is thanking God for the gift of this child. (Not to run to Target or check in at the pediatrician or to go back to work so she can keep her job.)

After the birth of a son in Jewish tradition, the mother remained in a state of ritual waiting in which she could not enter the Temple until she was purified. After 40 days, Mary goes to the temple to present her child to God and offer a sacrifice to restore her ritual readiness. The law requires a lamb for a burnt offering, but makes provision for the poor— they can offer instead a pair of birds. As someone reading who knows how the story ends, this detail is painful to read because DOES Mary know she’s ALSO bringing the Spotless Lamb to the temple?

Simeon, an old man who was waiting for the Messiah, was moved by the Spirit to be in the temple courts when Mary and Joseph arrived. When they brought Jesus in, Simeon took the baby in his arms and praised God. His prayer, now called the Nunc dimittis (literally, “let us depart”) or just the Song of Simeon, declares:

Lord, you now have set your servant free to go in peace as you have promised;
For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior,
whom you have prepared for all the world to see:
A Light to enlighten the nations, and the glory of your people Israel.
(Book of Common Prayer, 1979)

Then as Mary and Joseph are digesting this, Simeon goes on to say in Luke 2:34-35, “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” As a mother, can you imagine? Emerging in the not-quite-spring of Jerusalem with a tender 6 week old baby, to be told that a sword will be against your child and pierce your soul?

At that moment, the prophet Anna joins in, giving thanks to God and speaking about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem. After that, Luke tells us that Mary and Joseph did everything required by the Law of the Lord and then they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth. And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was on him (Luke 2:40).

What it comes down to, in these few sentences about Jesus’ childhood, is that his parents were faithful in the next right thing, and they trusted that God was using their obedience in a way that made sense to him, even if it didn’t make sense to the world. I still have… so many questions. I can only assume Mary pondered these things in her heart as well, so close to a year after the Annunciation in which Gabriel greeted Mary as highly favored, named her as a vessel, and endowed her with a gift she could not manufacture on her own.

When Mary consented to God’s invitation, the angel assured her that God was not just with her, he was within her. She was highly favored and the word used for blessed in Luke 1:26-28 means to consecrate, or to bless something to God’s use, not just “to give.” It’s a verb, not an adjective. Mary has been on a journey, literally and emotionally, in the past year.

Jesus was born in Bethlehem but presented at the temple in Jerusalem, a days’ walk (4-5 miles) from where he was born. Bethlehem was a pastoral town known for raising sacrificial sheep and goats for temple sacrifice. Lambing season in Bethlehem peaks in January/February so, like in Ireland where Imbolc originated, this would be the time of year when milk is returning to the flock and the overflow is feeding the townspeople signaling the first shift away from winter scarcity and hinting at the abundance to come. At 6 weeks postpartum, Mary’s milk supply is also at its peak. At a time of such abundance and outpouring and vulnerability, it’s comforting to have Isaiah 40:11 reminds us, “He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those who have young.”

Candlemas isn’t just a Christianized Imbolc. It’s the new and better coming of the light. Instead of celebrating increasing daylight, we celebrate Christ as the Light. Instead of celebrating milk hinting at the abundance to come, we celebrate a life to be poured out for all. Imbolc says life is possible again, Candlemas says the light of life Himself has come. Candlemas means the Feast of Candles because Simeon says that Jesus will be a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for God’s people. Pre-Christian light-bringing festivals were redeemed and the candles were repurposed.

Instead of celebrating the sun, we celebrate the Son. In the Middle Ages, Christians celebrated by blessing candles and holding processions in which the faithful carried their lights out into the darkness of winter. So Christ enters the temple, light enters the world, and the church carries that light forward. Those candles were carried from the church into the home and then pragmatically lit again during long nights, storms, childbirth, illness, times of death, and times of prayer.

Just like Christmas is not about Christians replacing a pagan sun feast, but about Light entering the world at its darkest point, Candlemas is about more than candles. It’s about the light entering the temple and faithful believers like Simeon and Anna (and us) going out to proclaim God’s faithfulness.

As someone who struggles with cold and darkness, I will always celebrate the coming of spring when it shows up as that ineffable shift in the air, the longer evenings, the scent of green on the wind. But what richness the life of a Christian affords me, because I can also celebrate the coming of a light that is warmer and more healing and longer lasting than candles or fire or the sun… the Son of the Most High, my Firstborn Brother, who works out my salvation on my behalf.

Last note... You know how at 6 weeks postpartum you emerge from that brain fog? Your body feels more intact, you see glimpses of your “old self,” and you have hope that you actually will think and function as you used to? I love that Candlemas marks that point for Mary at this time of year. God is in the details.

—

If you want to celebrate Candlemas with your kids, here are some ideas:

1. Have a candlelit meal and read Luke 2.

2. Listen to Simeon’s Song by Porter’s Gate.

3. Say a prayer over the candles in your house. Here are a few options:

   1. Roman Rite Blessing of the Candles:
      ”Sanctify, we beseech Thee, O Lord, these candles, and grant that we who carry this light may walk in the way of salvation and attain eternal light through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

   2. Processional prayer:
      ”Lord, may this light be a reminder of Your presence. May we shine with Your love in our hearts and in the world, walking in faith and truth.”

   3. Collect for the Feast of the Presentation:
      ”Almighty and ever-living God, we humbly pray that, as Your only begotten Son was presented in the temple and was recognized by Simeon as the Light of the nations, so may we receive Him always with joy and walk as children of the light. Through Christ our Lord, Amen.”

4. If you want to tie in the seasonal implications, you can explain the scarcity at this time of year in an era before grocery stores and Amazon Prime and the relief that came at having milk for drinking and cheesemaking again after the flock had dried up during pregnancy. Just like milk is the first food for babies, it’s the first fresh food of the year for many ancient civilizations.

5. You could serve a simple meal of oatmeal pancakes or my custard oatmeal bake alongside a glass of milk, a bowl of yogurt, or pots de creme.

6. Make some beeswax candles (we didn’t do that this year but we absolutely will next year). For younger kids, you can get kits where you just roll sheets of beeswax instead of pouring hot wax.

7. Reflect:
   Are we waiting faithfully and expecting Jesus to show up?
   Will we recognize Christ when he comes quietly?
   Will we carry the light of Christ, even when it leads to the cross?
   Where is life returning in your internal and external world?

   

»Fun fact: Groundhog’s Day was actually intentionally on Candlemas. Farmers believed this midway checkpoint could predict how much winter remained. “If Candlemas be fair and bright, winter will have another flight. If Candlemas brings clouds and rain, Winter will not come again.”

European farmers watched hibernating animals like badgers, bears, and hedgehogs to confirm the forecast. German immigrants in Pennsylvania were thrifty and swapped out a groundhog when no bears or hedgehogs were to be found. But even if the groundhog says winter is still winning, Candlemas proclaims that the Incarnate Word is the light of the world and no darkness can overcome it.«

As an elder millenial, I am grateful for my analog childhood every day. By junior high, I was chatting with my friends on AOL Instant Messenger, I joined Facebook when it came to my college sophomore year (“Facebook? But what’s the point? You just… see a picture of your friend’s face?”), and I joined the land of Instagram when I finally got a smartphone circa 2013 (a decision I put off for a long time, and still question TBH).

Now it’s 2026 and like it or not, the internet is here to stay. But the question I’ve been asking myself this month as I take a hiatus from posting Instagram content is, what’s my place in it? Where is the internet rightly ordered in my own life, and does my voice even have a place on the world wide interweb?

Social media has introduced me to some life-changing things:

-several wonderful IRL friends started as Instagram convos

-the homeschooling method that appealed to me as a new mom (Charlotte Mason/ Wild + Free style)

-learning things about my health that I was not being offered bouncing from doctor to doctor hoping to find someone who could explain what was going on (oh hey, it was endometriosis and POTS and MCAS and low ferritin and I am a new person now)

-heck even the house we now live in was introduced to me for-sale-by-owner from a homeschool account I was following on Instagram

Another thing the internet has given me is the opportunity to talk about something I’m personally invested in and professionally a nerd about on a large scale: breastfeeding and matrescence.

When I started my work Instagram account in 2016, I could only find one other breastfeeding account.

When I was on the Freely Rooted podcast in 2021, very few people were talking about breastfeeding on the internet.

When I started my own podcast in 2022, there were only 2 other breastfeeding podcasts.

When I released an online breastfeeding course in 2022, there was nothing else like it. I was filling a need, a niche, and a desire I myself had to equip moms with information I did not even know I needed when I was pregnant with my first baby.

In the last 3 years, it feels like the internet has exploded in all the worst ways. Indeed, there’s more information than ever. And less discernment. And AI’s voice is around every corner. I think disillusioned best describes how most of us feel right now. What even is real? Who even is genuine? And who’s going to drop into my DMs at any moment with a sales pitch?

WHY BOTHER? Why bother as a consumer, and why bother as an “influencer” if I can be so bold as to use a label I usually resist.

Then there’s the professional aspect of what I’m doing. The International Board of Lactation Consultant Examiners is woefully understaffed, and IBCLC has been a trendy add-on certification for many professionals: OTs, chiropractors, doulas, pediatricians… Not that I am disparaging any one individual pursuing certification, but the number of peers I’ve encountered who blatantly misunderstood or mistook or completely neglected the clinical or mentorship requirements to sit for board exams is… astoundingly high. And done under the nose of a board who doesn’t have the resources to audit “exam-eligible” students prior to testing.

As an eldest daughter and rule-follower, I’ve let this get to me more than it should. But the fact remains that it’s a minefield out there full of people making “lactation consultant” their personality or their bonus certification instead of their calling. To be clear: using the IBCLC pathway as an additional learning venue and continuing education to further your primary skillset is great. Passing a test that you may or may not have been qualified to take in the first place and launching a lactation practice with zero mentorship is… unfair. It’s unfair to the mothers. The number of lactation professionals at the “high-confidence, low-competence” end of the Dunning-Krueger curve is astoundingly high right now. Don’t get me wrong, there is always room for a beginner. And many people new to their profession have more energy, curiosity, and care than those who are burnt out at the end of their career. But this is where social media gets us. Because in today’s world, a well-crafted and promoted account somehow has more authority than someone with no social media but twenty years of experience. So where do I find myself in this mess?

For a few years, I tried to be both, for everyone: social media savvy and professional IRL. I have the resume for it, after all (insert me rolling my eyes at myself saying that): I’ve been a nurse working directly with moms and babies for 19 years, a mom for 12 years, a lactation consultant for 10 years, an “internet presence” for 5 years. The internet told me to train my replacement in my in-person work, scale up my online work, work less and get paid more. As a homeschool mom, that sounded like a dream. But the reality is, burning the candle at both ends took more time and energy than ever. This was not the dream I was sold. AND at the end of the day I’m the one who bought into it. Which also means I can decide to opt out of it.

So at the beginning of a new year, I’m slowing down, taking stock, auditing my energy, and it’s pretty clear what my two choices are: go harder or let go. Yes, sure, “work smarter and not harder” is an option, too. But the fact is that my heart isn’t in that. It’s what I really tried to do in 2025 and it didn’t work. I learned a lot about myself this fall and one thing is that I don’t take myself seriously and instead I try to talk myself out of feeling some sort of way. In reality, my personality is such that I’m pretty intuition-led and life is easier when I lean into that instead of resisting it. Now, this doesn’t mean I get to avoid work or hard things or mundane tasks. But it does mean I’m usually making my life harder than it needs to be. And I’m tired of that.

I’m tired of pushing (and embarrassed that I tried to push) my credentials and experience, regardless of how well-intended it has been. I’m tired of sales pitches — both pitching my own virtual breastfeeding resources (that I poured into with genuine good intention) into the void, and tired of being on the receiving end of someone’s sales funnel every time I scroll.

I’m tired of being told that I need to monetize my time online because, after all, I’m “giving away my expertise” with every Instagram post and podcast episode. What if instead of thinking the internet “owes me,” I let go of expectations and just shared in a way that was life-giving to me? What if no one is MAKING me spend my free time online? What if when I do, I want to be generous? What if I want to charge the bare minimum for people to understand that my membership content is legit, reliable, and professional without being gimmicky and too-good-to-be-true?

Do I want to burn it all down, or do I want to show up differently, with different expectations?

Back before Instagram, I was an avid blog reader. I also had my own “health and wellness” blog. I loved the Google Reader (RIP) feature that let you read new blog posts from your own curated selection of blogs each day without “suggested for you” content or ads or noise or pop-ups. To me, those were the golden days of the Internet. I know Substack is quickly becoming just as populated as Instagram, but I’m itching to write long-format content again like the blogging days or yore, and I want to be very intentional about what I’m up to before just throwing myself into another platform. I don’t want to waste my time and I don’t want to waste your time. It’s too too precious.

My postpartum cookbook contains our tried and true super-easy baked overnight oats recipe (that’s also naturally dairy-free because it uses coconut milk). But I was talking with a friend recently and realized that I never modified the recipe now that we are all (praise God) able to eat dairy and eggs again!**

So I started messing around in the kitchen this week, and the result was these amazing custard-like baked oats. They do require slightly more work than my original recipe, but soaking the oats in lactic acid via the whey/yogurt is what breaks down phytates, making this easier to digest and making the zinc, magnesium, and iron in the seeds and oats more bioavailable.

My whole family loves these, and they’re delicious with stewed fruit on top alongside some scrambled eggs or some Equip protein blended into your coffee. If you’re in the intense nurse-all-night phase, I recommend the optional creamy topping as well.

Ingredients

2 cups of organic oats

1 1/2 cups filtered water

1 cup whey (or 1 cup of raw milk or 3/4 cup yogurt with 1/4 cup water)

1 Tbs fresh-ground flaxseeds

1 Tbs chia seeds

—

2 whole eggs

1/3 cup whole milk

1/3 cup maple syrup or honey

1/4 cup melted butter

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp cinnamon

pinch of salt

Instructions

1. The night before, soak the oats, water, whey, and seeds in a 9x9 glass pan in the fridge.

2. In the morning, melt the butter in a small pan on the stove. Meanwhile, whisk the eggs, milk, and syrup in a small bowl along with the vanilla, cinnamon, and salt.

3. Add the butter and the egg mixture straight to the soaked oats in the baking dish and mix everything carefully.

4. Bake at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes and enjoy while still warm!
   

   *if you’re freezing for later, I recommend allowing them to cool and then slicing it into squares and freezing the squares individually so you can reheat one at a time

nutrition info for one square:
277 calories / 34g carbs / 13g fat / 7g protein / 4g fiber / 239 mg potassium / 363 mg sodium

Optional Topping

1/2 cup cream
1 Tbs butter
1 Tbs maple syrup
pinch of sea salt

warm these together on the stove and drizzle on top of the oats

Let me know if you try these this winter and if you’d like more real-time, family-friendly recipes!

**If you’re in the midst of a food reactivity journey, have no fear. I wrote a downloadable PDF cookbook specifically for you to still have nutrient-dense recipes that don’t include any of the top 12 infant allergens, including milk, eggs, and oats.