"Objectively, my last birth was perfect."
That is what the medical records say. It was quick. There were no injuries. No emergencies. On paper, it was a success story. But for a long time, if I tried to remember anything about that day, I felt sick to my stomach.
I’ve realized that a birth can be medically "fine" and still be deeply traumatic if the mother’s agency is stripped away. As I prepare for my next chapter and continue to build MABEL, I’ve been thinking a lot about the "nesting" process. It isn't just about washing baby clothes or organizing a nursery; it is about training the muscle of advocacy.
On April 30th, 2022, I knew I was in labor. I was calm, ready, and intentional. But when I got to the hospital, I was told my contractions "didn't register" as strong enough. I was sent home.
I didn't insist on staying. I didn't question their judgment. I took the bus home, only to end up passing out in the shower from the intensity of the pain, going in and out of consciousness until an ambulance arrived. My daughter was born just a few hours later.
The trauma wasn't just the pain; it was the fact that things were done to me without my consent—things I only know happened because I read them on a report later. I blamed the system, but I also blamed myself for not speaking up.
Now, I am at a different stage. I am turning 35, and I am being told I am "at risk" simply because of a statistical probability. I am being told I should choose a different hospital—one that doesn't align with my needs for bonding and psychological support—based on fear rather than medical necessity.
This time, I am saying no.
I am choosing a path that prioritizes my wellbeing and my baby’s health through my own informed decisions. I have a doula who supports me. I am training the muscle of advocacy every day, because I am the only one responsible for my journey.
People often ask why I started MABEL and why I spent so much time perfecting the MABEL MAMA Blouse.
It’s because motherhood is a series of moments where we are often told what to do, what to wear, and how to feel. When I designed the nursing blouse, I wasn't just thinking about the functionality of breastfeeding. I was thinking about the woman wearing it.
I wanted to create something that feels like a uniform for the advocate. When you are in those early postpartum weeks—recovering, healing, and navigating a new identity—you deserve to feel like yourself. You deserve clothes that respect your body and your need for ease, just as you deserve a medical system that respects your voice.
As you prepare for your own postpartum period, I encourage you to look beyond the crib and the diapers.
Question the "statistical probabilities" if they don't feel right.
Choose a birth team that hears you.
Wear things that make you feel empowered, not just "functional."
We are more than just a label. We are the ones in charge.
The Blouse is now live in the shop. It was designed for the "MAMA" who is reclaiming her space, her body, and her voice. Whether you are in the thick of nesting or navigating the first few months of motherhood, I hope it reminds you of the strength you carry.