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.

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. 💛