Traveling Once You’re a Parent: The Good & The Reality

Before kids, travel was freedom.
It was beach naps and late dinners and carry-ons packed 30 minutes before leaving for the airport.
It was daydreaming on long car rides, sleeping in strange beds, wandering without structure or snacks.

Then… the baby came.
And suddenly, “vacation” doesn’t feel like rest anymore.
It feels like logistics.
Packing cubes.
Snack strategies.
Wrangling tiny humans in airplane aisles while someone in 6A rolls their eyes.

The Good: New Memories, Fresh Wonder, and Slower Moments

Travel with a kid can be beautiful in ways you never expected:

• Watching them squeal in the ocean for the first time

• Seeing a sunset through their wide little eyes

• Experiencing the joy of “firsts” again — first flight, first waffle in a hotel buffet, first mini suitcase they pull like a pro

It forces you to slow down, take less in, and actually experience the moment.
It also brings out a version of you that’s softer, funnier, maybe even more present — if a little sleep-deprived.

Sometimes, the best moments aren’t the grand ones.
They’re watching your baby nap under a palm tree while you eat a sandwich with two hands.

The Hard: It’s Just... So Much

But let’s not sugarcoat it. Travel as a parent is HARD.

• You’ll probably cry in an airport bathroom at some point (or your kid will — or both).

• You’ll carry three times as much luggage, only to realize you forgot the one thing you actually needed.

• Nap schedules are a joke.

• Mealtimes become scavenger hunts.

• The mental load of “vacationing” feels like a full-time job.

It can feel frustrating to go somewhere “for fun” and still feel like you’re in survival mode.

The Grief: Mourning the Way Things Used to Be

This part doesn’t get talked about enough.
Even when you want this new life.
Even when you’re so grateful to travel as a family.

There’s a real, valid grief in realizing:

• You don’t travel the way you used to.

• You can’t just go anywhere, anytime.

• You need to factor in naps, allergies, tantrums, bedtime routines, and tiny bodies with big needs.

• Sometimes, you feel like you’re missing the trip while you’re on it.

You might feel a pang of jealousy seeing carefree travelers around you.
That doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you human.

The Truth: Both Realities Can Exist

You can love traveling with your child and miss who you used to be.
You can be deeply grateful and deeply tired.
You can make magical memories and mourn the version of yourself who once wandered airports with nothing but headphones and a passport.

Our Advice? Do It Anyway (But Do It Differently)

Don’t cancel the trip.
But lower the expectations.
Travel light emotionally, even if you’re overpacking physically.
Make rest the goal.

• Stay somewhere with laundry.

• Book slower days between outings.

• Tag-team with your partner or travel with a friend who can help.

• Don’t feel guilty if you need screen time or fast food or a midday cry.

• And for the love of god — give yourself a gold star just for doing it.

You’re not doing it wrong — you’re just doing it differently now.

Travel doesn’t stop.
It just shifts — like everything else after baby.
But trust us when we say:
Even in the mess… it’s still worth it.
You’re still creating magic.

And someday, they’ll remember the snack mix on the plane, the giggles in the pool, the way you always made room for adventure — even in the middle of chaos.

What Happens When Baby Comes but Support Doesn’t: Why the ‘Village’ Is Still Missing

“You’ll have so much help.”
“Everyone comes together when a baby is born.”
“It takes a village.”

Those are the promises we’re fed. The cozy clichés. The beautiful ideas we want to believe.

But then baby comes.
And the messages slow down.
The meal train dries up.
The visitors taper off.
And you’re left holding this brand new life, completely changed, and wondering:

Where the hell is my village?

The truth is, most of us are parenting without one.

Not because we’re doing it wrong.
Not because we’re not “asking for help.”
But because the village — the real one — has been slowly disappearing for generations.

Why the village is gone (and it’s not your fault)

Modern parenthood exists inside systems that are not built to support families.
We’re talking about:

• Two-week paternity leaves

• Housing unaffordability

• Long-distance families

• Hyper-individualistic culture

• Medical systems that discharge you 24 hours after birth

• Social media that pressures you to “bounce back” before you’ve even healed

Let’s not forget: many people are parenting without partners, with complicated family dynamics, across cultural barriers, or while managing trauma and mental health needs.

The old model of grandparents down the street, aunties dropping by, neighbors showing up — that’s just not reality for so many anymore.

When support doesn’t show up, it doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it.

It means we need to start telling the truth about how hard early parenting can be.
It means we need to stop romanticizing “doing it all.”
And it means we deserve to grieve what we thought we’d have.

It’s okay to feel let down.
It’s okay to feel resentful.
It’s okay to feel like you’re drowning.

You are not weak. You are unsupported. And those are not the same thing.

So what do we do when the village is missing?

We start by getting real about what support actually means.

Support isn’t just “someone holding the baby.”
It’s:

• Someone dropping off groceries.

• Someone texting to say, “You’re doing amazing.”

• Someone taking your toddler for an hour so you can shower.

• Someone listening without giving advice.

• Someone sending you EI claim tips or helping you fill out forms.

• Someone making you laugh when you’re on day 3 with no sleep.

It’s showing up. It’s checking in. It’s building connection — even in small, imperfect ways.

At Simple Smyles, we’re rebuilding the village — one conversation at a time.

We don’t have all the answers.
But we do believe:

• You deserve better than to do this alone.

• Postpartum support should be a right, not a luxury.

• Real connection can be built in DMs, workshops, community pages, and car seat aisle convos.

• You are allowed to ask for help again — even if it feels awkward.

Because the village didn’t disappear overnight.
And it won’t come back overnight either.
But we are out here — re-forming it. Reimagining it. Refusing to parent in isolation any longer.

Want to be part of our village?

Check out our prenatal and postnatal workshops, join our community group, or send this blog to someone who needs a reminder that they’re not alone.

We see you. We’re with you.
And we believe support should feel like home.

When Choice Is the Support: Why Talking About Abortion Belongs in Every Parenting Space

At Simple Smyles, we talk about postpartum care, co-sleeping debates, EI delays, pelvic floors, mental health spirals, identity shifts — nothing is off-limits. And that’s why today, we need to talk about something that’s too often left out of “parenting” spaces:

Abortion.

Yep. We said it.

Because the truth is: parenting doesn’t start at birth. It starts with decision-making. It starts with asking yourself hard questions, looking at your life, your health, your body, your future, and saying:

“What is right for me right now?”

And sometimes, that answer is: not this pregnancy.

This isn’t political. It’s personal.

Abortion is healthcare.
Abortion is compassion.
Abortion is safety.
Abortion is parenting.

Let that last one land for a second.

Because sometimes, the most loving decision a person can make is not to continue a pregnancy. Whether it’s because of a medical diagnosis, financial reality, emotional overwhelm, relationship safety, trauma, timing — or simply because they don’t want to be pregnant.

That’s valid. That’s enough.

Why this conversation belongs here

There is a dangerous idea floating around that “pro-parenting” and “pro-choice” exist on opposite ends of some moral spectrum. That if you support new parents, you must oppose abortion.

We’re here to say: nope.
We support informed, empowered, and resourced families.
And that includes the choice not to become one right now.

We cannot offer “support” if that support only applies once a baby is born.

A Little History: Abortion in Canada

Abortion was decriminalized in Canada in 1988, when the Supreme Court struck down Section 251 of the Criminal Code in the landmark R. v. Morgentaler case. Before that, abortion was only permitted if a "Therapeutic Abortion Committee" approved it — a system that overwhelmingly failed marginalized folks.

In other words: abortion has only been legal, without restriction based on reason, for less than 40 years.
And even now, access is not equal across the country.

• Provinces like PEI and New Brunswick have faced major criticism for limiting abortion services and funding.

• Rural and Northern communities — particularly those with high Indigenous populations — often have to travel hundreds of kilometers for care.

• 1 in 6 Canadian hospitals do not offer abortion services.

Reproductive Injustice in Indigenous Communities

Let’s be crystal clear: Indigenous communities in Canada have long histories of forced sterilization, coerced abortions, and systemic control over reproductive autonomy — and this is not just history. It’s recent.

• Between the 1960s and 1980s, thousands of Indigenous women were sterilized without consent — including teenage girls.

• Reports as recent as 2018 confirmed that coerced sterilizations continued to take place in Saskatchewan, Alberta, and other provinces.

• Indigenous women are overrepresented among those who face barriers to accessing safe, culturally appropriate abortion care.

This is why the conversation around abortion must be intersectional. For some, abortion access is about choice.
For others, it’s about control being taken away.

And for all of us, it should be about dignity.

The truth people don’t talk about:

• Black, Brown, Indigenous, disabled, and low-income folks are far more likely to face barriers to both abortion and adequate prenatal/postnatal care.

• When abortion access is stripped away, lives are put at risk — not hypothetically, but literally.

• Adriana Smith’s story is a heartbreaking example: a woman whose wanted pregnancy turned into a medical emergency. Her care was delayed due to restrictive abortion laws. She died. Her family was stripped of decision-making. Her story is one of many.

Abortion isn’t always one thing.

It isn’t always chosen.
It isn’t always tragic.
It isn’t always something someone “moves on” from, or doesn’t.

It’s often complex.
It’s often a mix of grief, relief, clarity, heartbreak, and hope.
And in every case — the person deserves support, not silence.

If you’ve had an abortion, or love someone who has:

You deserve to be seen.
You deserve information, care, and zero shame.
You deserve providers who will listen, and communities who won’t flinch.

Let’s be the support.

We’re not here just to talk about choice.
We’re here to talk about justice.
About creating spaces where people of all backgrounds — especially those historically harmed by medical systems — can access safe, informed, and compassionate care.

Because parenting doesn’t begin with birth.
It begins with autonomy.
And autonomy begins with truth.

In True Simple Smyles Fashion…

We know we’re not the experts on everything — and we don’t pretend to be.

There are incredible organizations, clinics, and advocates who have been doing this work for decades, and we are so grateful to learn from them and uplift their voices. We believe support is a collective effort, and part of holding space for reproductive choice is knowing when to pass the mic.

We’ve also been connecting with the amazing folks at C.I.H.C ( Choice in Health Clinic ) here in Toronto — and are hoping to have a workshop/info session in the near future where they can lead discussions on;

• Their abortion and reproductive health services

• Navigating healthcare with trauma-informed support

• Understanding your rights and options

• Accessing care that centers YOU

If this speaks to you, stay tuned — we’re building bridges and spaces where you can be held, informed, and never alone in your choices.

Because that's what this is all about:
Not doing it alone.

Support & Resources:

• Action Canada – National sexual health, abortion & advocacy support

• Abortion Rights Coalition of Canada – Access equity and legal resources

• Native Women’s Association of Canada – Reproductive justice & advocacy

• Sexual Health Clinics by Province – Search by location

• C.I.H.C (Choice in Health Clinic)Toronto – Instagram - https://choiceinhealth.ca/

Join our Community or follow us @simple.smyles for updates, support, and stories that honour every part of your journey — even the ones less talked about.

The Lonely First: What No One Tells You About Being the First in Your Friend Group to Have a Baby

No one tells you how strange it is to go from bottomless brunches to bottomless diapers — alone.
Being the first in your friend group to have a baby can feel like walking into a party wearing the wrong costume. You’re still you, but suddenly no one quite gets it. The mental load, the 3am wakeups, the emotional whiplash, the identity shift — it’s massive. And yet... this experience gets almost zero play time.

It’s time we talk about it.

You Don’t Know It’s Happening… Until It Hits You
In the early days, everything feels like a whirlwind. People are excited for you. They send cute onesies and say “I can’t wait to meet them!” But once the baby arrives, things get quiet. Invitations slow down. Friends don’t check in the way they used to. And suddenly, you realize you’ve taken a huge life leap — and the people around you are still mid-sprint in a completely different race.

It’s Not Their Fault… But It Still Hurts
Your friends aren’t bad people. They just don’t get it. They haven’t had to. They don’t know what it feels like to cry over a leaking nipple at 2am while everyone else is posting beach selfies. And that can make you feel invisible in a way that’s hard to explain.

There’s a grief that comes with being first — the grief of losing shared understanding. Of having to constantly choose between explaining yourself or just staying silent.

My Story: How It All Changed So Fast
In 2019, I was living what felt like my best Toronto girl summer — traveling, working at a boutique consulting firm on exciting projects, and soaking up every patio and plan possible. Life felt wide open.

I still remember this one moment like it was yesterday — our annual Christmas reunion at the Anndore House hotel. Alba, Kate, and I were hungover, laughing, and basking in how beautifully everything seemed to be lining up for all of us. I even made a passing comment as we walked out of the hotel: “Hey, have you guys heard what’s going on in China? It’s giving zombie apocalypse vibes…” We giggled and moved on.

Fast forward: I got engaged in February 2020 and jetted off to Costa Rica the next day. When we got back, I announced the engagement, returned to work, caught a cold… and then was sent home as COVID cases surged. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I wouldn’t set foot in that office again for four years.

Everything came to a screeching halt. But in social services — especially as a manager — things didn’t stop, they pivoted. We planned a micro-wedding, partly out of love and partly out of convenience. And then I got pregnant.

Being pregnant during the pandemic was surreal. I was thrilled and terrified — but mostly, I was in this weird, isolated bubble. Aside from my husband and our parents, not a single person saw me pregnant. It was bizarre. I’ve had people say, “It was like you went into the pandemic not married, no kids… and came out a totally different person.”
And honestly? That’s exactly how it felt.

I’m a social person. So not being able to socialize was already rough — but when my son was born, it was like I entered a whole new universe. My girlfriends were thrilled. They called, asked all the right questions… and then the phone calls slowed down. The texts started to feel impossible to reply to — and often trivial. I was just trying to survive. Talks about breakups, weekend plans, career moves, and political rants didn’t just feel out of touch — they made me angry. And jealous.

I had gone from carefree to completely tethered. My whole life was in a tiny apartment, tethered to nap schedules and feeding windows.
(If you want more on that emotional shift — check out my blog post on losing yourself in motherhood [insert link here].)

And when friends begged me to “just come out” or “let your husband watch the baby so you can relax,” I was furious. Not because I didn’t love them — but because they didn’t see me. They didn’t understand how complex it all felt. I loved being a mom. Like, really loved it. But I also didn’t know who I was anymore. I was pulled between wanting to be a stay-at-home mom and also wanting to pursue big dreams. I wanted to bake and play and also build and lead. I didn’t want a “break” — I wanted recognition.

To be completely honest — and they might be reading this now — there was a time I thought, I don’t even know if we can be friends anymore.

The Weird Guilt + Isolation Combo
You love your baby. You love your friends. But sometimes it feels like you don’t belong in either space. You feel guilty for missing your old life, but you also feel alone in this new one. While your friends are debating concert outfits, you’re Googling “What does green baby poop mean??”
You feel miles away — because you are.

What Helped Me Most
If you’re reading this and nodding along, here’s what helped me survive that lonely first:

• Finding community: Other parents who got it — whether through workshops, Facebook groups, or that one mom in the coffee line who just smiled like she knew.

• Letting go of old expectations: I stopped waiting for my friends to say the right thing. Instead, I made space for the ones who showed up in real ways — and gave myself permission to grieve the rest.

• Telling the truth: I stopped pretending. I said things like, “Hey, I love you, but I feel like no one sees me right now.” And to my surprise, it opened space instead of closing doors.

• Rebuilding new layers: Some friendships faded. Some grew. Some stayed soft in the background. All of it was okay.

Final Reflection
If you’re the first in your group to have a baby, I want you to know this:
You’re not too sensitive. You’re not broken. You didn’t “change too much.”
You grew — beautifully, painfully, and powerfully.
It might feel lonely right now, but you are not alone.

So here’s to the ones doing it first.
To the brave, the tired, the wildly loving.
You’re the start of the village.
And we see you. 💛

The First Week at Home: My Tender Truths, Messy Moments & Real Talk

The baby is born. You’re home. And the world says:

“Enjoy every minute!”

But real talk? Some of those minutes are messy, disorienting, and nothing like the Instagram posts.

The first week at home hit me like a tidal wave — physically, emotionally, and mentally. And while every journey is unique, there are a few things I wish someone had told me. So here’s what helped, what surprised me, and what it really looked like — from one postpartum heart to another.

1. You Might Feel Like You’re in a Time Warp

Day and night blur. Time stretches and contracts. You’re feeding, burping, changing, rocking — and suddenly it’s 3AM and you haven’t eaten, showered, or spoken a full sentence.

This foggy, stretchy time is often called the postpartum cocoon — and it’s real.

I remember how far the kitchen felt from our bedroom in our tiny 700 sq ft apartment. Myles had just gone down for a nap, and my husband and I decided to make pizza. We brought the monitor with us… even though he was like, 300 feet away. We still popped in constantly to check his breathing — but that night? We felt so proud of ourselves. It felt like a tiny win in a sea of newness.

👉 What helped:

• Keeping lights low and routines super simple

• Letting go of productivity guilt

• Asking someone to check in on me — not just the baby

2. Your Body Might Surprise You (In Wild + Weird Ways)

No one warns you about the night sweats. Or the full-body shakes. Or how your belly might feel like Jell-O. Or the hormonal drop that hits around day 3 and makes you sob over how beautifully your baby breathes.

For me? I had a C-section and — in true people-pleaser fashion — insisted on going home early. The thought of “burdening” people made me so uncomfortable, I signed my discharge papers as soon as they said 36 hours was the minimum. I wish I could go back and hug that version of me.

The moment we got in the car, every single bump on the road felt like my stomach was splitting open. My husband and I still laugh about how we were probably doing 10km/hr but it felt like 100.

Then we got home, and it hit — the chaos, the physical pain, the reality. While my husband ran out to get medications, I stayed home with our baby and dozed for a bit. When I stood up, I realized how badly I had to pee — and I completely flooded my adult diaper. Like, all over the floor. It was a whole toddler potty-training moment.

Still reeling, I went to sit in our brand-new rocking chair — which, of course, wasn’t against a wall. It flipped back so fast I thought I’d torn my stitches open. I bawled. From pain. From exhaustion. From finally letting myself feel it all.

👉 What helped:

• Having extra PJs, adult diapers, and waterproof pads ready

• Letting the tears come — no shame, no filter

• Saying: “I need help.” Even if just to sit beside me

3. Babies Are Noisy Sleepers (and You Might Not Sleep Anyway)

Newborns grunt, squeak, whimper, and snore in their sleep — and that monitor will have you watching every breath like it’s your full-time job.

The whole “sleep when the baby sleeps” thing? Adorable. But I was wired. I had full-blown anxiety about nightfall. Every night at 11PM, I’d feel dread sink in — like the whole night was one long obstacle course I had to survive.

Eventually, we started saving our favorite shows — Shameless and Yellowstone — just for those long, dark hours. It gave us something to look forward to and made the nights feel a little less lonely.

👉 What helped:

• Creating soothing nighttime rituals (even if they were chaotic)

• Watching feel-good shows to lighten the mood

• Letting go of sleep goals and embracing rest instead

4. You Might Question Everything (Especially Feeding)

I questioned everything. Especially breastfeeding.

We had no access to in-person support because the city was still shut down during the pandemic. No lactation groups, no drop-ins. Just me and my Google searches and a crying baby.

At one point, I called public health at 11PM in tears. The nurse gently said the lactation consultant was really backed up, but that it would be okay to give Myles a spoonful of formula for now.

So… we did.

Then at 2AM, the lactation nurse finally called. Her first words?
“I hope you didn’t feed him formula — that can mess everything up.”
And I just broke down. I felt like I’d already failed.

Eventually, we ended up taking Myles to a newborn walk-in clinic just to get answers. I remember thinking, Why does this feel so hard when it’s supposed to be natural?

👉 What helped:

• Limiting the number of opinions I consumed

• Remembering that fed is always best

• Knowing I was learning right alongside my baby

5. You Deserve to Be Cared For, Too

So many people show up for the baby. But you just went through something huge. And you deserve care, too.

I’ve always struggled to ask for help. Like… deeply. Even when I needed it most, I worried about being a burden.

But motherhood cracked me open. Not just physically, but emotionally. It forced me to receive. To be soft. To say, “I can’t do this alone.”

And once I did? Things started to shift.

👉 What helped:

• Making a soft postpartum plan — for meals, therapy, rest

• Saying yes to help that felt supportive, and no to anything that didn’t

• Letting others hold me for once

If You’re Still in That First Week…

You’re not alone. And you’re not doing it wrong.

If you’re in the thick of it — tired, tender, and questioning everything — I see you. Truly. I’ve been there. And it does get easier, day by day.

These stories don’t always make it onto the baby shower cards. But they’re real. And they matter. You matter. And you were never meant to figure this out alone.

Need a Little Extra Love?

Our “Baby’s Here! Now What?” guidebook was made for this exact season.
It’s gentle, evidence-informed, and built for the messy middle.

🧡 Click here to learn more — because even in the hard parts, we’ve got you.

The Truth About Losing Yourself in Motherhood — and Finding Your Way Back

Nobody tells you that one day, in between the feedings and the laundry piles and the soothing and the swaying —
you might look in the mirror and whisper,
“Where did I go?”

And it’s not that you regret becoming a mother.
It’s just… you weren’t expecting to feel this invisible.

From Me to You

Before I had my son, I was really, really unsure if having kids was for me.
Not because I was afraid of being a good mom — I knew I could be that.
But I was afraid of losing myself: my freedom, my friendships, and my career.

I had grown up watching so many women — in my family, in my community — who gave up pieces of themselves when they had kids. Not because they wanted to, but because they had to. And I wasn’t sure I was willing to make that kind of trade.

And let me be clear:
Folks who love being a mom — whose identity is motherhood — and stay-at-home parents? They are absolute heroes. That job is real, hard, invisible work. And it deserves all the respect in the world.
Full stop.

But before I was someone’s wife or mother, I was just me.
Living in my own place, loving my cat like she was my child, traveling, staying out late, dancing at festivals, chasing big nonprofit dreams, trying to earn my seat at those executive tables.

Then the pandemic hit. Everything changed.

We were waiting to get married and decided to move ahead with having a baby. I never considered how much the world would change — and how becoming a mom would shift my already-changing world even more.

The truth is, I fell in love with my son so deeply that nothing else mattered. He became everything.

But over time, that intensity came with grief.

I began to feel lost.
I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself. I looked different. I felt different. And honestly? I felt really, really f*cking sad.

The morning baby cuddles turned into toddler resistance and power struggles.
And while I was trying to hold everything together, my husband — who’s an incredible dad — would take our son to the park and be praised by strangers. Meanwhile, I was getting side-eyes and unsolicited parenting advice.

Then came the transition back to work. Except… it wasn’t smooth.
It was brutal.
Trying to work full-time while still parenting full-time because daycare lists were endless. I felt like I was failing at both. Like I wasn’t showing up as the mother I wanted to be — or the professional I used to be.

And all I could think was:

"Where the fck did I go?"*
"Who am I now?"

Let’s Get Honest: This Feeling Is Real

You can love your baby so much and still grieve the version of yourself who had uninterrupted thoughts.
Who wore real pants.
Who danced freely.
Who felt like her own person.

Motherhood can be beautiful — and lonely. Expansive — and consuming.
And when our culture praises sacrifice, it can feel like losing yourself is just “part of the deal.”

But here’s the truth: it doesn’t have to stay that way.

What “Losing Yourself” Can Look Like

It’s not always dramatic. Sometimes it’s quiet and slow.
It can look like:

• Not recognizing your body or your reflection

• Forgetting what you love outside of parenting

• Feeling disconnected from your partner or friends

• Resenting how little time you have for yourself

• Feeling guilty for even wanting something outside of motherhood

It can also be subtle — like not finishing a book in months, or putting on makeup and realizing it’s been a year.
Or crying in the car because no one needs anything from you there.

Finding Your Way Back — Gently

We don’t believe in 10-step plans or instant glow-ups.
But we do believe in slow, soulful reconnection.
In tiny acts of reclamation.
In remembering that you are still here.

Here are a few ways to begin:

1. Start with your name
   Write it down. Say it out loud. You are more than “Mama.” You are you.

2. Reconnect with your body
   Not to change it — to be in it. Stretch. Dance. Breathe. Cry. Move.

3. Do one small thing just for you
   A hot drink alone. A podcast that has nothing to do with parenting. A walk. A nap. A journal prompt.
   Something that doesn’t serve anyone else but you.

4. Speak it out loud
   Tell a friend. A partner. A therapist. A group.
   “I feel lost right now.” That sentence can open doors.

5. Release the guilt
   Wanting more does not make you less of a mother.
   You are allowed to have needs, dreams, goals — and you’re allowed to want to feel like a whole person again.

A Gentle Reminder

You don’t have to “bounce back.”
You don’t have to become who you were before.
But you do deserve to feel like you belong to yourself again.

Motherhood will change you — but it doesn’t have to erase you.

You can hold both your baby and your sense of self.

You can lose yourself, and still find your way back — wiser, softer, deeper, and more you than ever.

Let’s Talk

Have you felt this shift too?
What helped you feel more like yourself again — or what do you wish someone had told you?

Drop a comment below or come chat with us on Instagram. You are never alone in this.

Looking for Support?

Our Baby’s Here! Now What? guide was created with this exact season in mind — to help you feel more informed, supported, and connected in those tender early months.

💻 Click here to learn more

Why Birth Education Still Matters in a TikTok World

It’s 2AM. You’re scrolling TikTok. Suddenly you’re deep into #birthtok, learning about mucus plugs, raspberry leaf tea, and birth plans — all in under 60 seconds.

And while social media can be helpful (and kinda addictive), here’s the thing:

Watching TikToks isn’t the same as being truly prepared for birth.

There, we said it.
Because birth education — real, evidence-informed, person-centered education — still matters. In fact, we’d argue it matters more than ever.

Here’s why.

1. Birth Is Complex — and You Deserve the Full Picture

Your algorithm might serve you up hypnobirthing one day, an emergency C-section story the next, and then a 45-second “10 things I wish I knew before giving birth” the day after that.

But social media often leaves out context. Nuance. Science. And most importantly — YOU.

A real birth education class gives you:

• A deeper understanding of how labour works (not just the dramatic parts)

• Pain management options — medical and holistic

• Tools for advocacy and decision-making

• Space to ask questions and process your fears

• Support for your whole self — mind, body, and heart

Knowledge isn’t just power. It’s peace. And peace matters in birth.

2. TikTok Isn’t a Substitute for Connection

Watching a reel isn’t the same as being held in a room (virtual or otherwise) by a skilled, compassionate educator who knows how to meet you where you are.

In a birth class, you can:

• Learn alongside other expecting parents

• Ask your questions, not just scroll someone else’s

• Talk about your real-life birth preferences, fears, and hopes

• Build a support system — not just a social feed

At Simple Smyles, we don’t just give you the info — we hold space for all the feels that come with it.

3. Evidence Over Algorithms

Let’s be honest: viral doesn’t mean verified.

Misinformation spreads fast online — and when it comes to birth, that can be scary or even dangerous. Real birth education is:

• Evidence-based

• Grounded in best practices and updated research

• Tailored to your region’s systems (like OHIP, Ontario hospitals, midwifery, etc.)

• Delivered by trained professionals — not influencers

We love a good viral hack too — but your birth plan deserves more than a trending soundbite.

4. Birth Is More Than Just a Moment

What you learn in a real birth class isn’t just about what happens in the delivery room.

It’s about:

• How you feel in your body

• How your partner can support you

• What postpartum recovery will look like

• How to feed, soothe, and bond with your baby

• And how to prepare emotionally, not just logistically

Birth is an experience that lives in your body and memory forever. You deserve prep that honors that — with care and heart.

5. Birth Classes Are Built to Equip, Not Scare

Some people avoid birth classes because they’re worried they’ll hear something scary. But the right class doesn’t use fear as a teaching tool.

It uses:

• Informed choice

• Honest conversation

• Compassionate guidance

• Evidence and empowerment

You get to walk away feeling ready — even if birth doesn’t go “to plan.” That’s the magic of a good birth class: it gives you tools and flexibility.

Real Talk: Is a Birth Class Really Worth It?

We’ll keep it simple: YES.

You don’t need to memorize every stage of labour. You don’t need a binder of colour-coded tabs. But you do deserve to understand what’s happening in your body, what your options are, and how to advocate for the care you want and need.

Because when you know more, you can feel more confident. And that confidence carries over into birth, postpartum, and beyond.

Want to Learn With Us?

Join our signature 4-week workshop, The Journey, created for real parents who want real support — not just noise.

We cover:

• Birth prep + comfort techniques

• Advocacy + communication

• Feeding, newborn care, emotional wellbeing

• And everything you actually need to know — in a way that feels cozy, soft, and rooted in truth

Spots are filling fast! Click here to join

Queer Pregnancy + Postpartum: Holding Space for All Family Stories

There is no single story of pregnancy.
There is no one way to become a parent.
And yet, so many queer families still find themselves left out of the picture when it comes to pregnancy, birth, and postpartum care.

At Simple Smyles, we believe in holding space for every family story — with softness, intention, and a deep respect for identity, lived experience, and love in all its forms.

Whether you’re a queer, trans, or nonbinary birthing person, a same-sex couple growing your family, or navigating donor conception, adoption, surrogacy, or chestfeeding — you deserve to feel seen and supported.

The Problem: A System That Still Assumes

Despite progress in language and visibility, many healthcare systems still center their care around cisgender, heterosexual narratives. This can show up as:

• Forms that assume “mom + dad” only

• Providers using incorrect pronouns or gendered assumptions

• Language like “maternal” and “breastfeeding” without alternatives

• A lack of cultural competency around queer reproductive experiences

• Birth spaces that don’t feel safe for all bodies and families

For many queer parents, this leads to medical trauma, anxiety, invisibility, or the exhausting need to educate others during a time when they should be held with care.

What Inclusive Care Really Means

True inclusivity isn’t just about rainbow stickers in a waiting room. It’s about:

• Language that affirms (e.g., using “birthing person,” “partner,” or “chestfeeding”)

• Forms that reflect reality — diverse family structures, pronoun fields, open identity options

• Spaces that feel safe — emotionally, physically, spiritually

• Care that’s trauma-informed, anti-racist, and queer-liberatory

• Providers who listen without assumption, judgment, or agenda

Inclusive care sees you. All of you. And celebrates the richness of your journey.

Real Talk: Emotional Layers of Queer Pregnancy

Pregnancy and postpartum come with layers for everyone — but for queer folks, there can be extra threads:

• Grieving the lack of cultural representation

• Navigating identity shifts in a world that doesn’t “get it”

• Dealing with dysphoria, especially in medical spaces

• Navigating family dynamics that may not be supportive

• Constantly translating or advocating for your needs

These are real experiences. And you are not alone in them.

We believe it’s possible to hold joy, grief, pride, exhaustion, and transformation all at once. That’s the truth of many queer parenting journeys.

What You Deserve

You deserve care that honors your:

• Pronouns and name

• Parenting title (Mama, Baba, Papa, Zaza, Dada — all valid)

• Body, regardless of how you identify

• Family structure — polyamorous, solo, co-parents, trans families — ALL families

• Choice in how you feed, birth, and recover

• Right to feel safe, empowered, and celebrated

You also deserve not to have to explain yourself at every turn.

How to Advocate for Yourself (Or Support Someone Else)

If you're navigating this system as a queer parent or support person:

• Ask providers how they practice inclusive care

• Bring a support person or doula who understands your identity

• Share your pronouns and birth preferences upfront

• Make space for your own emotional needs — therapy, peer support, journaling

• Find affirming spaces (like Simple Smyles!) that hold you without condition

Let’s Keep This Conversation Going

What’s your experience been like as a queer or LGBTQ+ parent or birther?
What made you feel safe — or unsafe? What helped you feel held?

Drop your story in the comments or send us a DM. We are always learning, listening, and making space for your voice. 💛

You’re Not Alone in This

You deserve to be cared for — not despite who you are, but because of who you are.

At Simple Smyles, we’re committed to building spaces and services that reflect the full beauty of our community. That means workshops, guides, and care rooted in intersectionality, inclusion, and joy.

You are welcome here. Fully.

How Partners Can Truly Support During Labour (It’s More Than Just Holding a Hand)

You’ve read the books. You’ve packed the snacks. You’ve practiced rubbing that one spot on their lower back that earned you “best partner” points in trimester three.

But when it’s go time — when labour kicks in and everything starts to move — you might find yourself wondering:
“What do I actually DO to help right now?”

The truth is, your role is so much bigger than it might seem. Whether you’re a romantic partner, a friend, a co-parent, or a chosen family member — your presence matters.

Here’s how to show up with calm, confidence, and care.

1. Be the Calm in the Room

Labour can bring intensity — physically, emotionally, spiritually. Your job? Ground the space.

• Keep your tone soft, even if things feel chaotic

• Watch the birther’s cues — less talking, more attuning

• Breathe with them (literally — mirror their rhythm)

• Keep unnecessary noise or stress out of the room

Simple Smyles Tip: You don’t have to “fix” anything. Just be there. That’s powerful in itself.

2. Be on Comfort + Logistics Duty

Little things go a long way. Be the person handling the practical stuff so your birthing person can stay in the zone.

• Offer sips of water or electrolyte drinks

• Keep lip balm handy (their lips will dry out!)

• Get a cool cloth for their forehead or neck

• Offer physical comfort: hip squeezes, massage, counter-pressure

• Advocate for dim lights, quiet, or more space as needed

Bonus points if you pack a “birth toolkit” with snacks, essential oils, tennis balls, or affirmation cards.

3. Be the Voice When They Can’t Speak

Sometimes in labour, especially during active labour or transition, it’s hard for the birthing person to speak for themselves. You can be their voice.

• Know the birth preferences ahead of time

• Ask questions if something feels rushed or unclear

• Pause and say, “We need a minute to decide”

• Make sure they feel respected and safe

Big energy isn’t always needed. Quiet advocacy can be just as powerful.

4. Be the Emotional Anchor

This is a big moment. For both of you. And it’s okay if you’re feeling nervous too. But if you can steady yourself, you help steady them.

• Reassure them that they’re doing beautifully

• Make eye contact. Hold their hand. Stay close.

• Validate whatever they’re feeling: “I hear you. I’m here.”

• Remind them how strong they are — especially when they forget

💛 Remember: love is a form of medicine.

5. Keep Showing Up After Baby Arrives

Labour support doesn’t stop when the baby is born.

• Be skin-to-skin ready if they can’t do it right away

• Help them get comfortable for feeding or recovery

• Snap a photo — they may want to see this moment later

• Ask what they need in that hour or two after birth (water? food? a blanket?)

• Celebrate. Cry. Breathe. You did this together.

A Note on All Partners

Not every birth partner is a romantic partner. Support roles can be filled by best friends, doulas, parents, chosen family, or co-parents. If you’re reading this, you’re already doing the work of showing up with intention — and that matters.

You don’t have to do it perfectly. Just do it with heart.

Let’s Talk in the Comments:

If you supported someone through labour, what helped you feel prepared? And birthing parents — what do you wish your support person had done (or did do!) that made a big difference?

Drop it below — let’s learn from each other. 💛

Want More Real Talk + Practical Prep?

Join us for Week 2 of The Journey — where we dig into labour, pain management, partner prep, and emotional readiness for birth.
Click here to save your spot https://www.simplesmyles.com/booking.

What to Pack in Your Hospital Bag (Without the Overwhelm)

You've probably seen the viral videos. The overflowing duffel bags. The monogrammed packing cubes. The 17 baby outfits. And let’s be real — it can be a lot.

But here’s the truth: you don’t need to pack your whole house. What you do need? A few intentional, comforting, and practical items that support you and baby through those early hospital hours and days.

We’ve got you. Here’s your stress-free, judgment-free guide to what actually matters when packing your hospital bag.

For You (the birthing person)

Let’s start with you — because your comfort and care matter most.

• ID + Health Card – You’ll need these at check-in.

• Birth Plan (optional) – If you have one, print a few copies.

• Robe or Open-Front Sweater – Something soft, cozy, and easy for skin-to-skin.

• Non-Slip Socks or Slippers – Hospital floors are cold!

• Comfy Postpartum Undies – The mesh ones are fine… but you might want your own.

• Pads (or Adult Diapers) – The hospital usually provides some, but having your preferred brand helps.

• Toiletries – Think toothbrush, dry shampoo, face wipes, lip balm, hair tie.

• Snacks + Water Bottle – Labour is work. Fuel is key.

• Phone Charger (extra long cord!) – Outlets are rarely bedside.

• Optional: Your own pillow, a calming playlist, or aromatherapy – Comfort is sacred.

For Baby

This part is so tempting to overpack. Remember: they’ll mostly be skin-to-skin, swaddled, and snuggling.

• 2–3 sleepers (newborn + 0-3m sizes) – In case baby is smaller/larger than expected

• A going-home outfit – Optional, but can be sweet for photos

• Hat + mitts – Hospitals often provide a hat, but bring your own if you'd like

• Blanket – For warmth in the car seat, not in the crib

• Diapers + wipes? – The hospital should supply these, but check in advance

• Car seat (installed) – Can’t leave without it!

For Your Support Person

If your partner or support person is staying with you, they’ll need a mini bag too:

• Change of clothes

• Snacks + drinks

• Phone charger

• Cash or coins for vending

• Headphones or book – There can be a lot of waiting

• Patience + presence – Their vibe matters more than their stuff

Tips to Keep It Simple

• Pack two bags: One for labour/delivery, one for postpartum. Leave the second in the car and grab it when needed.

• Don’t stress about being “ready”: Babies come on their own timeline. Your peace is more important than perfection.

• Add a list on top: Things to grab last-minute (like your phone or charger) so nothing’s forgotten.

A Gentle Reminder

No bag can fully prepare you for what birth will feel like. And that’s okay. What you bring with you — your strength, your heart, your community — matters more than any perfectly packed pouch.

You are not underprepared. You are already doing beautifully.

Want a Downloadable Checklist?

We created a Simple Smyles Hospital Bag Checklist to make this even easier.
Pop over to our Instagram or grab it inside The Journey workshop materials!

Let’s Chat!

What’s one “must-pack” item someone recommended to you? Drop it in the comments or DM us on IG! We’d love to hear what made you feel most supported.

Sleepless Nights: Navigating the Exhausting, Beautiful Chaos of New Parenthood

Why Sleepless Nights Hit So Hard (And Why You're Stronger Than You Think)

Before you have a baby, everyone warns you about the lack of sleep.
But no matter how many warnings you hear, nothing truly prepares you for the reality of it.

Sleepless nights in new parenthood aren’t just about physical exhaustion.
They stir up deep emotions: overwhelm, loneliness, anxiety — and sometimes even grief for the life you had before.

If you find yourself pacing the floor at 2AM, crying along with your baby, or feeling a deep pit of dread when the sun sets knowing you’re in for another long night — you are not alone.
You are walking one of the hardest, most tender roads of parenthood.
And you are doing it beautifully.

The Raw Reality: What Sleepless Nights Really Feel Like

One of the most difficult and less-talked-about aspects of sleepless nights is the anticipatory anxiety — the feeling of dread that creeps in every evening.
Knowing you're unlikely to get rest, feeling trapped in an endless cycle of wake-ups, and carrying the weight of exhaustion before the night even begins can be overwhelming.

I remember a night so clearly — I was so tired, I fell asleep while holding my baby.
In a haze, I felt him slipping from my arms and startled awake just in time to hold him tighter. He didn't fall, thank goodness.
But the terror of that moment stayed with me.
It wasn’t about being careless — it was about being human, pushed beyond the normal limits of sleep, strength, and survival.

It’s okay to name this part too:
Sleeplessness isn't just physically exhausting — it’s emotionally scary sometimes.
And you are not weak for feeling it.

What Sleepless Nights Really Teach Us

While no one wants to experience sleepless nights, there’s something quietly powerful that happens during them:

• You learn the true depth of your resilience. Every night you survive teaches you how strong you truly are.

• You connect with your baby in raw, unfiltered moments. Some of the most profound bonding happens during the quiet hours when no one else is awake.

• You learn to surrender. You realize that not everything can be fixed, scheduled, or controlled — and somehow, that softens you in ways you didn't expect.

• You start to honor your needs too. Whether it’s asking for help, setting boundaries, or choosing a nap over a clean house, sleeplessness reshapes your priorities.

• You witness growth — theirs and yours. Both you and your baby are transforming in slow, meaningful ways, even when it feels like nothing’s changing.

Gentle Tips for Surviving the Sleepless Nights

There’s no magic cure — but there are ways to soften the edges of those hard nights:

• Accept help, without guilt. If someone offers to hold the baby while you nap, say yes without hesitation.

• Lower your expectations. Survival mode is still success. Dishes, emails, laundry — they can wait.

• Create small nighttime rituals. Even tiny habits — like a soft robe, a warm tea, or calming music — can make the nights feel a little less heavy.

• Practice tiny self-kindnesses. Drink water. Stretch. Breathe deeply. Remind yourself you are doing an incredible job.

• Know it’s a season. Sleepless nights can feel endless in the moment — but they are not forever. The rhythm will change, and you will sleep again.

Closing: You’re Not Failing — You’re Becoming

If no one has told you yet today:
You are not failing because you're tired.
You are not failing because you're anxious.
You are showing up, night after night, in the darkness and in the struggle — and that is the definition of fierce, enduring love.

One day, the nights will feel lighter.
You’ll rock your baby under the stars and realize — you grew too.
And you are stronger, softer, and more extraordinary than you ever imagined. 💛

The First Birthday: A Milestone Full of Joy, Grief, and Growth

The Emotions Behind Your Baby’s First Birthday

When we picture our baby's first birthday, we often imagine balloons, laughter, and cake-smeared smiles. And while those moments are real and joyful, there’s often another layer too — one that's heavier, more complicated, and deeply emotional.

If you’re feeling a mix of happiness, grief, pride, and sadness as your baby’s first birthday approaches, you are not alone. Let’s explore why the first birthday can feel so unexpectedly emotional, and why every feeling you have is completely valid.

My Story: Grieving and Celebrating at the Same Time

At the very beginning of becoming athday experience) mom, I was drowning — like so many new parents — in recovering from my C-section, sleepless nights, painful breastfeeding, teething, and simply adjusting to an entirely new life. Every day felt like an uphill battle.

But somewhere in those early months, I found a version of myself I absolutely loved.

I was still sleep-deprived, but I began to long for the late-night cuddles, the quiet walks through High Park, the warm summer days, and the sense of real-life purpose that motherhood gave me. I had never in my life felt so important, so needed, so accomplished — and so proud.

And then came the teeth. The standing. The walking.
Suddenly, my little potato was becoming a real, independent person — and I was not prepared for how fast it all came at me.

As his first birthday approached, I started to feel overwhelmed with anxiety.
The idea of people saying, “He’s not a baby anymore,” was almost unbearable.
Leading up to the day, I cried more times than I could count. Even during his Zoom birthday party — smiling and laughing with everyone — I was quietly doing everything I could to hold back my tears.

I was so proud.
I was so grateful.
And at the same time... I was grieving.

Why the First Birthday Feels So Emotional

Your baby's first birthday isn't just a celebration of their growth — it's a milestone marking your growth too.

In one whirlwind year, you went through a profound transformation: physically, emotionally, mentally. You nurtured, soothed, taught, protected, and loved in ways you never had before.

The first birthday often brings a quiet grief — for the newborn days, the tiny snuggles, the "firsts" you can't repeat. It marks the closing of a precious chapter and the start of a brand new (and just as beautiful) one.

Grieving that change doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you human.

What I Wish I Knew: For Any Parent Feeling This Way

If you’re approaching your baby's first birthday with a tangle of emotions, here’s what I want you to know:

• It’s normal to grieve and celebrate at the same time. One emotion doesn’t cancel the other out.

• Your feelings are valid. You are not "too sensitive," "too emotional," or "dramatic."

• You’ve changed too. This birthday is a milestone for you as much as it is for your child.

• Make space for your emotions. Cry if you need to. Reflect. Write it out. Talk about it.

• Find small rituals to honor your journey. Write a letter to your baby. Write one to yourself. Plant something. Take a photo not just of them — but with them, and celebrate your first year too.

Making the First Birthday Meaningful (For You Too)

Simple ideas to help honor this emotional milestone:

• Write a letter to your baby — or to yourself — about this first year together.

• Create a memory box of little keepsakes from your baby's first year.

• Plan a quiet moment for yourself before or after the party.

• Plant a tree or a flower to symbolize your first year of growing together.

• Connect with a community of parents who get it — you don't have to carry it alone.

Closing: A Gentle Reminder

Wherever you are right now — whether you're feeling joyful, heartbroken, anxious, or all of the above — know this:
You are not alone.
You are not failing.
You are standing at the doorway between two beautiful chapters — and it’s okay to cry at the threshold.

You and your baby have grown together in ways that words can hardly capture.
Celebrate them. Celebrate yourself.
You are doing a beautiful, brave job. 💛

Embracing — and Grieving — Your New Season of Life

When you imagine becoming a parent, you expect the love.
You expect the joy.
You expect the overwhelming emotions.

What we don’t always talk about is the grief that comes with it too —
the quiet mourning of the life you left behind.
The identity you are suddenly no longer sure how to find.

At Simple Smyles, we believe in honoring all parts of the journey — the beautiful, the messy, the surprising, and the heavy.
Because becoming a parent isn’t just about meeting your baby.
It’s about meeting a new version of yourself, too.

A Story from Our Founder

I can remember feeling so nervous about becoming a mom.
What if my kiddo didn’t like me?
What if it didn’t come naturally?
What if I didn’t even like being a mom?

I distinctly remember one day — sitting on the toilet, still trying to take my first poop after my C-section (the glamorous postpartum moments no one warns you about) —
struggling with breastfeeding, drowning in sleepless nights, and trying to navigate it all in the height of a global pandemic.

I sat there and thought:
"What the eff have I done with my life? I’ve ruined it."

It’s hard to admit.
Especially when everything we’re taught says that women are supposed to be naturally, effortlessly, joyfully maternal.
That wasn’t my immediate response — and that truth felt heavy to carry alone.

Later, when my girlfriends started having kids, they would admit the same thing to me, quietly and in secret:
"I love my baby so much... but sometimes I miss my old life too."
"Sometimes I wonder if I'm cut out for this."

And the truth is — even now, with my kiddo four years old,
there are still days where I catch myself thinking:
"Man... things used to be so fun and easy."

Grief and Joy Can Exist Together

You can love your child more than life itself —
and still miss the parts of yourself that felt freer, lighter, wilder.
You can feel profoundly grateful —
and still feel profoundly sad sometimes.

✨ Both can be true.
✨ Both are normal.
✨ Both are allowed.

Parenthood isn't about giving up who you were — it's about learning how to weave that old self into the new version of you that's emerging.
It’s about holding space for the "before" while bravely stepping into the "after."

It's Okay to Take Time to Find Yourself Again

The truth is, you won't "bounce back" — and you’re not supposed to.
You are evolving, not undoing.

It's okay if it takes time to feel like yourself again — or to discover that your "new self" is someone entirely different, and still deeply worthy.
You don't have to rush your healing.
You don't have to rush your becoming.

Every phase — the confusion, the grief, the stretching and growing — is part of the beautiful, messy masterpiece of who you are now.

Your Body is Not Broken — It’s a Testament to Your Story

Your body may look and feel different after birth.
That doesn’t make it defective — it makes it extraordinary.

Stretch marks, scars, softened curves — they are not imperfections; they are inscriptions of love, endurance, and creation.
You are not less. You are more.

More resilient.
More powerful.
More breathtaking in ways that have nothing to do with the mirror and everything to do with the life you carry, hold, and nurture.

How to Embrace Your New Season of Life

• Give yourself permission to grieve without guilt.

• Speak lovingly to your reflection — the same way you would speak to a friend.

• Let go of the pressure to "get back" to anything — forward is beautiful too.

• Celebrate small wins (a shower, a hot coffee, a deep breath of quiet) as sacred victories.

• Ask for help — and believe you deserve it.

Your life has changed — and yes, parts of it have been left behind.
But in their place, new parts are blooming.

Trust that joy can grow right alongside grief.
Trust that this season, even in its wildness, is shaping you in extraordinary ways.

Finding Community and Support Matters

You don't have to carry all of this alone.
There is real magic in finding people who say, “Me too.”

• Reach out to postpartum groups, community centers, parent meet-ups — even virtual ones if needed.

• Talk to other parents about the highs and the lows.

• Connect with doulas, lactation consultants, mental health professionals — people trained to hold space for the realness.

• Let your circle hold you, even when you feel messy, complicated, or unsure.

You were never meant to do this alone. 💛

If You’re Feeling This Too, Please Know:

🌿 You have not failed.
🌿 You are not ungrateful.
🌿 You are not alone.

You are allowed to feel everything — and still be an amazing parent, an amazing human, and an evolving work of art.

We see you.
We celebrate you.
We are walking right beside you.

Emotional Health Matters:

At Simple Smyles, we believe that your emotional well-being is just as important as your physical recovery.
If you're struggling with feelings of grief, sadness, or overwhelm after becoming a parent, please know that you are not alone — and help is always available.
Reaching out for support is a courageous, loving step for you and your family. 💛

The Truth About Breastfeeding: It's Beautiful — and It's Hard

When we picture breastfeeding, we often imagine peaceful, glowing moments: a soft newborn nestled against your chest, a serene bond forming quietly between mother and baby.
And yes — sometimes, it looks exactly like that.

But what we aren't always told is that breastfeeding can also be something else entirely:
Raw. Painful. Emotional. Exhausting. Lonely.

At Simple Smyles, we believe in celebrating all sides of the journey — not just the glossy ones. Because the truth is, breastfeeding can be one of the most beautiful and one of the most challenging experiences in those early days.

The Beginning is Often the Hardest

When I first had my kiddo, I wasn’t even sure if breastfeeding was something I really wanted to do.
In my mind, I thought, “Okay, maybe I’ll breastfeed for three to six months — and after that, too bad, you’re cut.”

Like so many things with parenting, that mindset shifted the second my baby was placed into my arms.
Everything changed. Suddenly, my entire world centered around his needs — first and foremost.

When I was rolled back into recovery after my C-section, the nurse gently asked, "Do you want to try breastfeeding?"
I said, “Sure.”

And at first, it seemed easy. I wasn’t in much pain.
I honestly thought, “Wow, maybe this will be simple after all.”

(What I didn’t realize at the time was that the pain medications from surgery were still in full effect.)
Because when we got home... everything changed.

I remember the first few days vividly:
The pain was so brutal that sometimes I found myself thinking, “Do they really need to eat again?”
“Maybe they don’t need to stay latched for so long?”

The sucking was excruciating.
I used to joke with my girlfriends that every time he latched, I would count to 10 — and slam my foot into the ground to brace myself for the pain.

But then one day — and I’ll never forget this — I realized something.
As he latched, I didn’t slam my foot down.
I didn’t flinch.
I didn’t feel that familiar, gut-wrenching pain.

I thought to myself, “…This doesn’t hurt anymore. In fact, I barely even notice it.”

That moment felt like a sunrise after a very long, dark night.

Breastfeeding is a Journey, Not a Moment

Breastfeeding isn’t a switch you flip — it’s a relationship that grows over time.
Sometimes it starts rocky and becomes strong.
Sometimes it evolves into pumping, combination feeding, or formula feeding — and that is just as valid, beautiful, and loving.

There’s no single way to define success when it comes to feeding your baby.
The real success is in showing up with love, over and over, no matter how imperfect or messy it feels.

If No One Has Told You Yet — Let Us Be the First:

🌿 It's okay if it hurts at first.
🌿 It's okay if it takes more time than you thought.
🌿 It's okay if you ask for help — you deserve help.
🌿 It's okay if your feeding journey looks different than you imagined.

You are doing an amazing job.
You and your baby are learning together — and every ounce of effort, every tear, every moment of perseverance is building a bond that runs deeper than words.

At Simple Smyles, we're here to walk beside you.
Through the beautiful moments, and the raw ones too.

You are enough.
You are strong.
You are not alone.

If you ever need support, guidance, or simply a space to be seen — we're here. Always. 💛

Disclaimer:

At Simple Smyles, we deeply honor and support all feeding journeys. While this post shares a personal story from the perspective of our founder — who identifies as female and describes her experience with breastfeeding — we fully recognize and celebrate that chestfeeding, bodyfeeding, and other forms of infant feeding are valid and beautiful paths, including for trans and non-gender identifying parents.

We also believe firmly that fed is best.
Whatever feeding method you choose — breastfeeding, chestfeeding, pumping, formula feeding, combination feeding — what matters most is that you and your baby are nourished, supported, and loved.
You are doing an incredible job. 💛

The Beauty of Babywearing: Bonding, Comfort, and Hands-Free Parenting

At Simple Smyles, we believe that the small moments create the deepest bonds — and babywearing is a beautiful example of that.

Whether you're wrapping your newborn close to your heart or carrying your growing baby as they explore the world, babywearing offers countless benefits for both you and your little one.

Why Babywearing Matters

1. Deepens Bonding
Keeping your baby close helps regulate their heart rate, breathing, and body temperature — especially in the early months. The physical closeness naturally strengthens the emotional bond between you and your baby, fostering trust, security, and love.

2. Supports Emotional Development
Babies who are frequently carried often show stronger signs of secure attachment. They tend to cry less, feel more easily soothed, and develop emotional resilience as they grow.

3. Makes Life Easier
Babywearing keeps your hands free while still keeping your baby close. Whether you're making a meal, going for a walk, or simply navigating daily life, a carrier allows you to multitask while still being emotionally and physically connected.

4. Encourages Physical Development
Being worn upright helps babies strengthen their neck, back, and core muscles naturally. It also supports healthy hip development — especially when using ergonomic carriers designed to maintain the "M" position (knees higher than hips).

5. Creates Community Moments
Babywearing often sparks conversations and connections with other parents and caregivers. It’s a simple way to create community while doing what feels natural and nurturing for your baby.

Babywearing Safety Tips

While babywearing is wonderful, safety is key! Remember these simple guidelines:

✨ Tight and secure: Your baby should be held snug against your body without loose fabric.
✨ Visible and kissable: You should always be able to see your baby's face and easily kiss the top of their head.
✨ Chin up and clear: Ensure baby's chin is off their chest to keep airways open.
✨ Supported back and hips: Choose carriers that promote proper posture and hip alignment, especially for newborns.

(And of course, always check the specific instructions for the carrier or wrap you’re using!)

A Final Word from Simple Smyles

Babywearing is more than just a practical tool — it’s a way of moving through early parenthood with gentleness, connection, and intention.
However you choose to carry your baby, know that you are building a relationship rooted in safety, trust, and unconditional love — one simple, beautiful moment at a time.

Interested in learning more?
Our Simple Smyles workshops cover newborn care, babywearing tips, and emotional wellness for new parents.

Pain Perception in Labor: What Really Causes the Pain?

One of the most fascinating things I learned during my doula training was this:
At full term, the uterus actually has very few — if any — pain receptors!

So if there are almost no pain receptors in the uterus... what’s causing the sensations of pain during labor?

The answer is more complex than you might think. Labor pain isn’t just physical — it’s deeply connected to the way the brain processes signals based on emotional, hormonal, and psychological factors.

Let's explore how pain perception works during labor:

What Influences Pain Perception in Labor?

Pain perception isn’t just about what’s happening in the body — it’s about how the brain interprets it. Several factors come into play, including:

🌿 Perceived Danger
Pain is influenced by how much danger your brain thinks you are in. If your brain senses fear or threat, it amplifies pain signals to encourage a "protective" response.

🌿 Expectation of Pain
If you go into labor expecting intense pain, your brain is already primed to experience it more sharply. Anticipation heightens the brain’s sensitivity to discomfort.

🌿 Attention and Focus
Focusing closely on pain increases its intensity. Conversely, using distraction techniques, visualization, or mindful breathing can ease the experience.

🌿 Emotional State
Stress, fear, and anxiety can significantly increase perceived pain. A calm, supported, and safe emotional environment can help minimize it.

🌿 Hormonal Balance
Two hormonal duos play a major role during labor:

• Oxytocin and Endorphins (the “love and pleasure” hormones) help promote relaxation, connection, and natural pain relief.

• Adrenaline and Cortisol (the "fight or flight" hormones) can make sensations feel sharper and labor more difficult if fear or stress are high.

Reframing Pain During Labor

One powerful goal in childbirth preparation is rewiring the brain’s association from:

Contraction = Pain
to:
Contraction = Relaxation and Excited Anticipation

Tools that can support this shift include:

• Mindfulness practices

• Breathing techniques

• Positive affirmations

• Guided imagery

• Physical comfort measures (like massage, movement, and water therapy)

At Simple Smyles, we’ll explore these tools together — giving you practical ways to approach labor with more calm, confidence, and connection. ✨

Stay tuned — next week, we'll dive deeper into specific mindfulness and breathing techniques you can start practicing now!

Hiring a Doula in Ontario: Is It Worth It?

If you’ve landed here, chances are you’ve heard the word “doula” floating around your prenatal world—and you’re curious. Maybe you’re wondering if you really need one, or if it’s just another trendy birth add-on. Let’s clear that up, together.

At Simple Smyles, we’re big believers in informed choices and personalized care. So this post isn’t about convincing you that everyone should hire a doula. It’s about helping you understand what doulas do (and what they don’t), how they might support you, and what to consider when deciding if they’re the right fit for your journey.

What Is a Doula?

A doula is a trained, non-medical support person who provides emotional, physical, and informational support before, during, and after birth. Think of them as your calm, grounded, go-to support person—someone whose only job is to help you feel seen, supported, and safe.

There are two main types of doulas:

• Birth Doulas support you throughout your pregnancy, labour, and delivery.

• Postpartum Doulas support you after baby is born—helping with feeding, sleep, emotional recovery, and adjusting to new parenthood.

✨ What they DON’T do:
Doulas don’t offer medical care. They don’t deliver babies, make diagnoses, or replace your doctor or midwife. Instead, they work with your care team to help you advocate for yourself and feel as prepared, informed, and calm as possible.

Why Hire a Doula? (The Real-Life Benefits)

Research shows that continuous support from a doula can lead to:

• Shorter labours

• Fewer requests for pain medication

• Lower risk of c-sections

• Higher rates of breastfeeding

• Better emotional adjustment postpartum

But beyond the stats, here’s what our clients say they value most:

• Someone who gets it—and helps explain what’s happening

• A steady presence in the room (who isn’t family or medical staff)

• Comfort techniques like breathing, counter-pressure, and positioning

• A gentle advocate when emotions run high or plans shift

• Emotional check-ins during those early, foggy postpartum days

How Doulas Fit Into Your Birth Team

Great news: doulas complement your care team—they don’t compete with them.

• If you’re working with an OB in a hospital, your doula can bridge the gap between medical care and emotional support.

• If you’ve chosen a midwife, a doula offers continuity during labour and can stay after birth to help you transition into postpartum.

• If you have a partner or co-parent, doulas don’t replace them—in fact, they often strengthen your bond. We support both of you through the experience.

In other words: doulas hold space so everyone else can show up more fully.

How Much Does a Doula Cost in Ontario?

Doula services aren’t currently covered under OHIP, but they may be covered under:

• Extended health benefits (check your “health spending account” or wellness benefits)

• Employee wellness funds

• First Nations, Métis, or Inuit-specific programs

• Student insurance plans

Typical rates (as of 2025):

• Birth support packages: $900–$1,800+ depending on experience and what’s included

• Postpartum doula hourly rate: $30–$50/hour

At Simple Smyles, we also offer payment plans and are happy to work with your budget when we can. We believe in accessible care.

When to Book a Doula (And How)

We recommend reaching out to book your doula around 20–28 weeks of pregnancy. This gives you time to:

• Get to know your doula

• Build a birth plan together

• Access prenatal education and emotional support well before labour

Most doulas offer a free consultation (we do!), so you can chat and see if the vibe feels right.

Questions to Ask When Hiring a Doula

Here are some great conversation starters:

• What’s your birth philosophy?

• How do you support partners or other support people?

• How do you handle unexpected situations (like a fast labour or C-section)?

• Are you available 24/7 after a certain week?

• What happens if you’re at another birth? Do you have a backup doula?

The goal is to find someone you feel emotionally safe with. You should leave your consult feeling supported—not sold to.

Final Thoughts: So... Is It Worth It?

We might be a little biased, but we say yes—if it’s in your budget and it feels like the right fit for you. Doulas don’t make your birth experience perfect (no one can). But they can help it feel more connected, grounded, and supported.

Whether you’re planning an unmedicated birth, an epidural, or a scheduled C-section—this is your story. A doula is just one more layer of care to help you feel less alone, more informed, and more in tune with yourself and your baby.

You deserve that kind of care.

💛 Want to learn more about working with a Simple Smyles doula?
Click here to book a free consultation or browse our Toronto-based offerings!

Does Insurance Cover Postpartum Therapy in Ontario?

You’ve Probably Heard “It Takes a Village”...

But what if part of that village includes a therapist?

Let’s be honest—postpartum is a wild ride. Some moments are filled with magic and tiny yawns, and others feel heavy, blurry, or like you're just trying to keep your head above water. And you know what? That’s okay.

Postpartum therapy can be a powerful part of your support system—whether you’re navigating big emotions, anxiety, or simply adjusting to your new normal. But one of the most common questions we get is:
“Will my insurance cover it?”

The good news? For many Ontario families, the answer is yes. Here’s what you need to know to access support that feels good and fits your budget.

Why Therapy After Birth Matters

Let’s get this out of the way: you don’t need to be in crisis to seek therapy.

Postpartum therapy can help you:

• Process your birth experience

• Reconnect with your identity outside of “just mom”

• Navigate relationship changes or big emotions

• Cope with anxiety, depression, or burnout

• Learn to set boundaries and ask for help

Therapy is one of those forms of care that fills your cup—so you can keep showing up with love (and less resentment) for your baby, your partner, and yourself.

What’s Usually Covered by Insurance in Ontario

Most extended health benefit plans (from work or school) include coverage for:

• Registered Social Workers (RSWs)

• Registered Psychotherapists (RPs)

• Psychologists or Clinical Counsellors

Coverage amounts can vary—anywhere from $500 to $1500 per year—and are often renewed annually.

💡 Simple Smyles Tip: Therapy with an RSW is often the most affordable and widely covered option in Ontario.

How to Check What You’re Covered For

If you’re not sure where to start, we’ve got you:

1. Log in to your insurance provider’s website or app

2. Look for “Mental Health,” “Counselling,” or “Paramedical Services”

3. Check for:

   • Who’s eligible (e.g. RSW, RP, psychologist)

   • Annual max amounts

   • Per-session or per-visit limits

   • If a doctor’s note is needed

Still confused? Give them a quick call—they’re there to help.

Submitting Claims: The Basics

After your session, your therapist will send you a receipt with all the info your provider needs (credentials, service date, fees, etc.). You’ll upload it to your provider’s portal, and usually get reimbursed within a few business days.

At Simple Smyles, we always make sure you leave with everything you need to submit.

No Insurance? You’ve Still Got Options.

We believe therapy should be accessible to all birthers and families. If you’re not covered, here are some ways to still get support:

• Sliding scale options (many therapists offer them!)

• Short-term support packages

• Group counselling (virtual and in-person)

• Free and low-cost mental health programs in your community

Free & Affordable Resources in Ontario

• 🌿 Wellness Together Canada: Free virtual support

• 🌼 Perinatal Wellbeing Ontario: Focused on pregnancy & postpartum mental health

• 🌺 Pacific Post Partum Support Society: Nationwide phone support

• 🌟 ConnexOntario: 1-866-531-2600 – Mental health navigation

• Your local public health unit may also offer parenting mental health programs

Final Thoughts from the Heart 💛

Postpartum therapy isn’t selfish—it’s soul care.

Your mental health deserves as much attention as your birth plan or baby’s feeding schedule. Whether you’re quietly struggling, feeling disconnected, or just want a space that’s yours, therapy can help you feel grounded, seen, and a little more like you again.

If you’ve been wondering if support is within reach—it is. And we’re cheering you on as you reach for it.

Why Prenatal & Postnatal Mental Health Matters—For Both You and Baby

Let’s Talk About the Other Side of Pregnancy and Parenthood

When most people picture pregnancy, they imagine glowing skin, cute bumps, and dreamy nursery setups. When they think about postpartum, it’s soft snuggles and first smiles.

But between the Pinterest boards and baby registries, something big often gets missed: your mental health.

And here’s the truth: your emotional wellbeing is not a side note. It’s central to this whole journey.

Why Prenatal and Postnatal Mental Health Deserve More Attention

Pregnancy and postpartum are filled with rapid change. Physically, yes—but also mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. And while care providers closely monitor blood pressure, belly measurements, and baby’s heartbeat…

Too often, no one’s checking in on you.

But research (and real life!) tells us that your mental health:

• Affects how you bond with your baby

• Impacts your sleep, energy, and relationships

• Influences your baby’s brain and emotional development

• Can shape how you experience birth, recovery, and parenting

This isn’t to scare you. It’s to affirm you. You deserve support that sees your whole self—not just your uterus.

Why It Gets Overlooked—And What We Can Do About It

So why isn’t this talked about more? A few reasons:

🩺 Medical models prioritize physical outcomes.
Providers are often trained to focus on physical health and miss emotional red flags.

💬 Cultural messages push perfection.
Parents—especially birthing people—are expected to “bounce back,” stay grateful, and push through, even when they’re falling apart inside.

🤫 Shame and stigma still linger.
Many parents fear being judged if they admit they’re struggling. But vulnerability is strength, not weakness.

✨ But here’s what we know changes everything:
Community. Education. Support. When we talk about what’s real, share resources, and make mental wellness part of the conversation—not an afterthought—everything shifts.

Signs Your Mental Health Might Need a Little Extra Love

Whether you’re pregnant or postpartum, here are a few signs it’s time to check in:

• Constant anxiety or racing thoughts

• Feeling emotionally numb or disconnected

• Trouble sleeping (even when baby sleeps)

• Irritability, sadness, or hopelessness

• Guilt about not “loving every moment”

• Difficulty bonding with baby

• Feeling like you’re “not yourself”

If any of this hits home—please know you are not alone. You are not failing. You are feeling. And there is help.

How to Support Your Mental Health—And Your Baby’s

💛 Build a village that gets it.
Surround yourself with people who lift you, check in on you, and offer support without judgment—whether that’s a partner, doula, therapist, or a friend who brings snacks and sits on the floor with you.

💛 Get educated before the overwhelm.
The more you know about the mental load of new parenthood, the better prepared you’ll be. Attend workshops, ask questions, and make a plan for postpartum—not just the birth.

💛 Seek therapy or counselling.
Talking to a perinatal therapist (even once or twice!) can help you feel seen and supported through the hard parts. In Ontario, many therapy sessions are covered under extended benefits.

💛 Join peer support spaces.
Online or in-person—connecting with others who get it can reduce isolation and remind you that you’re not the only one navigating big feelings.

💛 Normalize the full range of emotions.
You can be wildly in love with your baby and feel overwhelmed. These things are not mutually exclusive. Both are true. Both are valid.

You Deserve More Than Survival Mode

This isn’t about pretending pregnancy and parenthood are easy. It’s about being honest: this is life-changing work.

And life-changing work deserves care.
Deserves softness.
Deserves a circle of support that doesn’t flinch when things feel heavy.

Let’s rewrite the story together. One where mental health is part of the plan—not an emergency detour. One where we hold parents with as much tenderness as we hold their babies.

You don’t have to do this alone. 💛