"Tell Me About the Birth." Why That's One of the First Questions I Ask
When a family walks into my office, they probably expect the first question to be about feeding.
Is your baby latching?
How often are they eating?
Are they gaining weight?
Those questions are important, and we'll get to them. But more often than not, one of the very first things I ask is:
"Tell me your pregnancy and birth story."
Parents are sometimes surprised by the question. After all, we're here because breastfeeding hurts, or baby won't settle, or tummy time is impossible, or naps only happen when someone is bouncing on a yoga ball.
What does birth have to do with any of that?
Quite a lot, sometimes.
Not because birth determines your baby's future, but because it offers important clues about how your baby entered the world and what their body may have experienced along the way.
Every Birth Tells a Story
Every birth is different.
Some babies move through labor gradually over many hours. Others arrive after a very fast birth. Some spend hours navigating the twists and turns of the pelvis before emerging. Others are born by cesarean after labor, or by planned cesarean before labor begins. Some need assistance with forceps or vacuum extraction. Some arrive with a hand by their face or in a position that made birth more challenging.
None of these births are inherently "good" or "bad."
They are simply different experiences, and sometimes those experiences help explain the patterns I'm seeing weeks later.
The Story Doesn't End at Birth
The birth itself is only one piece of the puzzle.
I'm also interested in what happened afterward.
Was your baby separated from you?
Did feeding begin easily, or was it difficult from the start?
Was there a NICU stay?
Did jaundice make baby sleepy?
Was there significant molding of the head?
How did those first hours and days unfold?
These details don't tell me what will happen.
They help me understand what did happen.
Looking for Patterns, Not Problems
When I hear your birth story, I'm not listening for something that went wrong.
I'm listening for patterns.
Perhaps your baby strongly prefers turning their head to one side after spending weeks in a particular position before birth.
Perhaps a long pushing stage helps explain why they seem uncomfortable extending their neck.
Perhaps a very fast birth gives me another piece of the puzzle as I consider how your baby's nervous system is adapting to life outside the womb.
None of these observations stand alone.
They become part of a larger picture that also includes feeding, movement, sleep, digestion, and your own observations as the person who knows your baby best.
Why This Matters for Feeding
Babies don't breastfeed with just their mouths.
They breastfeed with their whole bodies.
Comfortable neck movement helps them turn toward the breast. Jaw mobility influences latch. Coordination, breathing, posture, and nervous system regulation all contribute to how feeding unfolds.
When I understand your baby's birth story, I gain another lens through which to understand the feeding relationship. Sometimes it confirms what I'm already seeing. Sometimes it helps me ask better questions. Sometimes it reminds us both that what looks like a feeding problem may have roots that extend beyond the breast itself.
Your Story Matters Too
I don't just ask about your baby.
I ask about you.
Birth leaves an imprint on parents as well.
Whether your birth unfolded exactly as you hoped or looked nothing like you imagined, your experience matters. The transition into parenthood is physical, emotional, and deeply personal. The way you carry that experience can influence how you feel during feeding, how you interpret your baby's cues, and how you experience those early weeks together.
Supporting babies means supporting parents, too.
Every Family Is More Than a Checklist
One of my favorite parts of this work is hearing birth stories.
Not because I'm searching for a diagnosis, but because every story adds another layer of understanding.
When you tell me about your labor, your baby's first cry, the first feeding, or the moment things started to feel difficult, you're helping me see your family as more than a collection of symptoms.
You're helping me understand the journey that brought you here.
And often, that's where the path forward begins.
