“You deserve specialized care that caters to your unique emotional needs. You spend nearly every waking moment taking care of baby. It's time someone takes care of you.”
I am in awe of human resilience. I have both experienced and witnessed the human capacity to heal following trauma and loss. I believe each of us is capable of extraordinary strength, yet cultivating that strength can be difficult without help. I believe everyone has intrinsic worth. I believe there is no problem too great or too small for counseling. What do you believe?
I have an MS in Couples, Marriage and Family Counseling and an MS in Clinical Psychology. You could say that as the daughter of a cardiologist, healing hearts runs in my family. Rather than follow the medical path, I have always been interested in those inner reaches of the heart that are invisible to the eye and best accessed through literature, art, music and psychotherapy. In my past professional work as an award-winning journalist, my role often involved describing individual and community struggles. I loved the rigors of writing and research, but over time I found myself increasingly drawn toward wanting to help people directly rather than disseminating information about human suffering.
I earned my Master of Science in Couples, Marriage and Family Counseling from Portland State University, and a Master of Science in Clinical Psychology from Pacific University.
I am a Portland native and live with my husband, two daughters and a chicken on the slopes of Mt. Tabor, a dormant volcano. In addition to working as a counselor, I am a musician, writer, and visual artist who finds great joy and rejuvenation in the magnificent outdoors.
In my late thirties, I was a busy graduate student and an exhausted but jubilant first time mother when I unexpectedly confronted low milk supply. Why is this happening? I wondered. Getting pregnant had been easy. I considered myself healthy. Questions without answers outcompeted the joy like invasive English Ivy choking a Douglas Fir Tree.
Not a single health provider had discussed or acknowledged my obvious risk factors for low milk. In fact, during an appointment with a midwife filling in for my obstetrician, I brought up a pregnancy anomaly that was troubling me. I shared with her my suspicion that it could lead to potential supply problems.
She casually dismissed my concern. It was a false and short-lived reassurance.
During the mentally and physically delicate postpartum period, I learned that I wasn’t producing enough milk. I marveled at my newborn’s small, perfect body while a sense of betrayal by my own body grew. My eyes were red from crying. Pumping breastmilk after every nursing session -- and "power pumping" on top of that -- ate up time I needed for sleep. Add to that my demanding graduate school studies, and each day felt like a dissertation on personal disaster. To say it felt unsustainable is an understatement.
I felt profoundly isolated from other new mothers who did not have the same problem.
Meanwhile the breastfeeding industry was promoting myths and spreading disinformation. The books I read about breastfeeding erroneously claimed that supply problems were the result of breastfeeding mismanagement. It was enraging, to be honest.
Like the medical providers I encountered, these authors failed to acknowledge the existence of mothers who do everything right and still do not produce enough milk.
I had to dig relentlessly to begin finding answers. As a result of my experience, I have developed a highly specialized, one-of-a-kind therapy program to address the acute and specific needs of new mothers with low milk supply. If you are struggling -- as so many mothers with low milk supply do -- I invite you to sign up for my group today. You are not alone!