Meadow’s Blossoming Bellies

Meadow’s Blossoming Bellies Bring support, care, and empowerment to the birth experience.

The uterus shrinks from the size of a watermelon to a pear.That’s wild.And it doesn’t happen overnight.In the weeks afte...
08/07/2025

The uterus shrinks from the size of a watermelon to a pear.
That’s wild.

And it doesn’t happen overnight.

In the weeks after birth, your body is doing so much work—healing, recalibrating, and literally reshaping itself. The uterus alone goes from about 2.5 pounds back down to just a few ounces. It took nine months to stretch and grow… and now it’s slowly returning home.

This is one of the many reasons rest is essential in the postpartum period. You’re not “bouncing back”—you’re recovering from something profound.

So if you're moving slower, needing more support, feeling all the feelings… you're doing it right.

Your body is incredible.
Your healing deserves to be honored.
And no, you don’t have to go through it alone.

Let’s honor the birth stories of our ancestors.⁣Before books, before apps, before prenatal classes—there was story.⁣Wisd...
08/06/2025

Let’s honor the birth stories of our ancestors.
⁣
Before books, before apps, before prenatal classes—there was story.
⁣
Wisdom passed down through generations. Shared around kitchen tables, whispered during long nights of labor, carried in the hands of midwives and aunties and neighbors.⁣
⁣
What did your grandmother, great-grandmother, or elders teach about pregnancy or labor?
Were there rituals? Foods you were supposed to eat—or avoid?
Songs sung to babies in the womb?
Plants brewed into teas, or blankets handmade for the journey earthside?
⁣
Even if those stories were never told to you… they live in your blood. In your body. In your lineage.
⁣
There is power in looking back as we prepare to move forward.
⁣
Sometimes reclaiming birth means reconnecting with the wisdom that came before hospitals, charts, and protocols. Sometimes it means asking the elders what they remember. And sometimes it means grieving the stories that were lost—because of migration, assimilation, or silence.⁣
⁣
Still, we can choose to listen.
Still, we can choose to honor.
⁣
Tell me—what birth stories live in your family? What were you taught?
And what are you passing on?

Dads get postpartum depression too.We don’t talk about it enough.The focus is often on the birthing parent (as it should...
08/06/2025

Dads get postpartum depression too.

We don’t talk about it enough.
The focus is often on the birthing parent (as it should be), but partners — especially dads — can struggle deeply in the postpartum period, too.

Sleep deprivation. Life changes. Financial stress. Identity shifts. A crying baby you don’t know how to soothe. Feeling helpless as your partner recovers. Watching someone you love suffer and not knowing what to do. The pressure to “hold it together.” The silence around asking for help.

It builds.
And sometimes it breaks.

Postpartum depression in dads can look like anger, withdrawal, irritability, numbness, substance use, or feeling disconnected. It can also look like showing up every day while silently falling apart inside.

It’s not weakness. It’s not failure.
It’s a mental health condition — and it’s treatable.

If you’re a dad and you’re not okay, you’re not alone. You deserve support just as much as anyone else in the postpartum space.

Let’s make room for all parents in the conversation. Let’s check in. Let’s listen. Let’s stop assuming that just because someone didn’t give birth, they’re fine.

Because dads get postpartum depression too.
And they deserve to heal.

There’s no one right way to do this.⁣No perfect feeding schedule.No universally “best” birth plan.No single sleep method...
08/06/2025

There’s no one right way to do this.
⁣
No perfect feeding schedule.
No universally “best” birth plan.
No single sleep method that works for every baby.
⁣
There’s just you—doing your best with what you’ve got, in this moment, with the tools and support you have.
⁣
Parenting is not a test to pass. It’s not a competition. It’s a relationship that unfolds day by day, full of trial, error, learning, unlearning, and deep, messy love.⁣
⁣
What worked for someone else might not work for you. And that doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.⁣
⁣
You don’t need to do it like your sister, your best friend, or that parent on Instagram.⁣
⁣
You need to do it in the way that feels most right for you and your baby.
⁣
And that? That’s enough. That’s more than enough.
⁣
There’s no one right way to do this.
There’s just your way. And that’s valid, worthy, and real.

Birth isn’t one-size-fits-all.Every birth is shaped by stories, lineage, values, and lived experience. For some, it’s de...
08/05/2025

Birth isn’t one-size-fits-all.

Every birth is shaped by stories, lineage, values, and lived experience. For some, it’s deeply spiritual. For others, it’s medical and pragmatic. Some births are quiet and candlelit; others are fast and fierce under fluorescent lights. No two are ever the same—and they’re not meant to be.

Your birth deserves to reflect you.

That might mean incorporating prayer or ritual. It might mean inviting a whole circle of loved ones—or choosing just one quiet support person. It might look like traditional herbal practices passed down through generations. It might be informed by trauma, neurodivergence, q***rness, or grief. It might happen at home, in a hospital, in a birth center—or through caesarean birth.

All of it is valid. All of it is worthy of care.

You get to decide what matters to you.
You get to ask questions.
You get to bring your culture, your language, your boundaries, and your power into the birth space.

As your doula, I’m not here to lead the way. I’m here to walk beside you. To hold space for what’s sacred to you. To listen. To support your decisions—not shape them.

Because birth isn’t one-size-fits-all.
It never has been.
And it never should be.

Sensory overload is real.The crying. The buzzing. The lights. The mess. The dishes. The laundry. The feeling of little h...
08/05/2025

Sensory overload is real.
The crying. The buzzing. The lights. The mess. The dishes. The laundry. The feeling of little hands always on you. The noise that doesn’t stop.

Sometimes it’s not one big thing. It’s everything all at once.

You’re touched out.
You can’t think straight.
Your body is tense, your breath is shallow, and your patience is hanging by a thread.

And then comes the guilt — because you love your kids, you chose this, and people tell you to soak it all in. But love doesn’t cancel out the very real impact of being overstimulated, especially when you haven’t had a moment to just be in your own body.

It doesn’t make you a bad parent.
It means you’re human.

You deserve breaks. You deserve quiet. You deserve support. You deserve to step away without explanation and come back when your nervous system feels safe again.

This overstimulation? It doesn't mean you’re weak.
It means you’re carrying too much without enough care for you.

Let’s talk about it. Let’s name it.
Let’s stop pretending it’s normal to constantly ignore our own needs.

The Truth About Sleep Deprivation in the Early WeeksLet’s talk about something rarely shown in cute newborn photos: the ...
08/05/2025

The Truth About Sleep Deprivation in the Early Weeks

Let’s talk about something rarely shown in cute newborn photos: the sheer exhaustion of the early weeks.

Sleep deprivation isn’t just “feeling tired.” It’s losing your grip on time, putting the milk in the cupboard, crying because you forgot why you walked into a room, and feeling like you’re moving through fog. It’s physical, emotional, and mental.

In the early weeks postpartum, your body is still recovering from birth. You may be healing from tears, surgery, or blood loss. You’re feeding a newborn around the clock—whether it’s by breast, bottle, or both—and waking up every 1–3 hours through the night. Sleep is not just broken; it’s practically non-existent.

The world may tell you to “sleep when the baby sleeps,” but that rarely works when you also need to eat, pump, shower, or care for older kids. And even when you can lie down, your nervous system might be too overstimulated to rest.

Here’s what can help:
🫶 Letting go of expectations—your only job is to survive and care for this baby
🌙 Building a support system that allows you to rest, not just the baby
💤 Contact naps, lying down while baby feeds, or “rotating” night shifts with a partner
🍲 Accepting help with meals, laundry, or just holding the baby while you close your eyes

Sleep deprivation can feel relentless. But you are not doing it wrong. You’re just doing something really, really hard.

You’re not alone in this. And it won’t always feel this way. 💛

Your emotions matter. Your identity matters.There’s no “right way” to feel during pregnancy, birth, or postpartum. There...
08/04/2025

Your emotions matter. Your identity matters.

There’s no “right way” to feel during pregnancy, birth, or postpartum. There’s no single path to parenthood. No universal blueprint for healing. And no one-size-fits-all experience of what it means to become a parent—or to not become one.

You might feel joy, grief, confusion, peace, fear, rage, love, detachment, or all of it at once. That doesn’t make you broken. It makes you human.

You might be stepping into this season as a q***r parent, a single parent, a trans dad, a non-binary gestational parent, a survivor, or someone navigating cultural or generational wounds. However you move through this space—you deserve to be seen, heard, and supported exactly as you are.

In this work, I believe in holding space for the whole person. Not just the body that births or feeds, but the soul inside. I believe in naming trauma and honoring resilience. In checking in without judgment. In asking, "How are you really?" and sticking around for the answer.

This isn’t just about surviving. It’s about being deeply witnessed. It’s about claiming your story and knowing you don’t have to do any of this alone.

Your emotions matter.
Your identity matters.
You matter.

And I’m here to walk with you

Therapy saved me.I don’t say that lightly.There was a time I felt like I was drowning — in postpartum depression, in anx...
08/04/2025

Therapy saved me.

I don’t say that lightly.
There was a time I felt like I was drowning — in postpartum depression, in anxiety, in the weight of everything I had been holding for far too long. I was smiling on the outside and falling apart on the inside.

Therapy was the space where I stopped pretending. Where I could say things out loud that I had been too afraid or ashamed to admit. Where I could unravel the grief, the guilt, the trauma — and slowly start to understand myself again.

It wasn’t a quick fix. It took time. Some days I left feeling raw. Other days I left feeling lighter. But every session was a step toward myself.

Therapy helped me find my voice.
Helped me feel safe in my body again.
Helped me reconnect — to my daughter, to my partner, and to the part of me that still wanted to heal.

If you’re struggling, I want you to know this:
You are not too far gone. You are not alone.
And asking for help isn’t weakness — it’s courage.

Therapy saved me. And it might just save you, too.

Address

Arvada, CO
80004

Opening Hours

Monday 9am - 8pm
Tuesday 9am - 8pm
Wednesday 9am - 8pm
Thursday 9am - 8pm
Friday 9am - 8pm
Saturday 10am - 3pm
Sunday 10am - 3pm

Website

https://blossomingbelliesd.wixsite.com/meadowsblossoming

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Meadow’s Blossoming Bellies posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Practice

Send a message to Meadow’s Blossoming Bellies:

Shortcuts

Share

Category