A former OB-GYN shares how outdated postpartum care nearly cost her career—and how new policy changes are finally reshaping maternal health. This powerful story highlights why the old six-week postpartum visit model fails families, how COVID opened the door to innovation, and how expanded postpartum coverage is transforming care. Discover why individualized, year-long postpartum support is the future of maternal medicine.

Why would someone risk their baby's life rather than deliver at a hospital? This appears to be a growing trend, and we're not asking the right questions about it.

Doctor Braden riding… a bike. Pretty literal. We know.

Looking back, I’m struck by how perfect my life looked on paper. Story of my life, really. I checked every box. I was the obvious choice: doctor, wife, mother, achiever. I don’t judge my younger self for that. That perfectionism served me well—until it didn’t.

Sitting in that therapist’s office, I was given something I didn’t know I was missing: permission to cry.

We’re fed this idea that exhaustion is the price of admission to motherhood. That stress is just a sign you care enough. That losing yourself is noble, even beautiful.

We don’t talk about the partner who stands at the edge of the bed, watching the person they love dissolve in front of them.

There’s a version of my life where I’m not a doctor.

Where I’m not here writing this.

Where I walked away before my career ever really began.

Let me start with this: most peple can make enough milk. Not everyone—but most.

So why do so many parents feel like their supply disappears overnight?

There is a silent epidemic in postpartum care that almost every parent feels—but few talk about out loud. It’s called Perceived Insufficient Milk Supply, or PIMS, and it’s one of the most common reasons people stop breastfeeding before they’re ready.