Hey there, I’m Tiff, The Placenta Girl
First and foremost, I’m a mom, just like you. I am a late-diagnosed autistic mom with ADHD who struggled for a long time with postpartum anxiety. After refusing meds for many years, I started Lexapro after passing out from stress in the toy section of Barnes & Noble while my kids were playing with toys. Within a week, my life changed. And I will forever regret not taking medication sooner. It quite possibly saved my life.
I learned about my ADHD a couple of years ago, at age 49, and after learning as much as I could about my spicy brain, I set up my life and my home to accommodate my needs. And I decided to try ADHD medication. After lots of trial and error, I ended up on Straterra, a non-stimulant (some research suggests stimulants don’t work for those with both ADHD and autism) for my ADHD, and I’ve since been able to wean myself off the Lexapro.
I went home, went to the bathroom, and saw I was bleeding. So, I called the doctor again, finally got a hold of someone, and they told me to come right in—which, of course, when you hear that from your OB, it’s terrifying. I get there, they take me right back—no waiting—which made me even more terrified. I go into the office, and the first thing the doctor says is, “First of all, this is not because of the medicine we gave you last night. Okay? Okay.” And so then she does an ultrasound and says, “I’ll be right back.” She comes back, does a vaginal ultrasound, and confirms that, yes, my water did break. She tells me I have to go straight to the hospital. I said, “What does this mean?” She said, “Well, sometimes we can keep you pregnant for a long time—long enough to have a healthy baby.”
So now, I’ve had one vaginal exam after my water had broken. I got to the hospital, and they did another vaginal exam. I had three more vaginal exams over the next 15 hours or so and I ended up spiking a fever. I had an infection, thanks to all these vaginal exams, and had to be induced at 22 weeks and 3 days into my pregnancy. When my 1lb, 6 oz. baby was born, I held him in my arms for the whole 10 or so minutes of his life. He was all covered in vernix and he was so tiny. And all I kept saying to him was, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I went to my six-week check-up with the same doctor who was there when he was born and died. I asked her if it was normal that I was still bleeding. She asked if I was breastfeeding.
And that’s how I got into birth work.
* Eventually, I learned from my high-risk OB that I likely had bacterial vaginosis (BV). It’s a simple swab test to diagnose BV. To this day, I can’t wrap my head around why they didn’t do that test.
I became pregnant for the first time in 2007. At the time, I was fairly clueless about the whole birth process, and the only book I was referencing was What to Expect When You're Expecting, which, honestly, later on down the line, is the first book I ever trashed. I didn’t want to donate it anywhere because I didn’t think anyone should read that book. I call it What to Fear When You're Expecting.
I know this is probably TMI for some of you, but those of you who feel that way aren’t my people, I guess because I am an oversharer. During that pregnancy, I was experiencing brown discharge for weeks on end. I kept going to my OB and they kept telling me that it was nothing to worry about. Then, finally, I guess they were sick of seeing me, so they gave me Diflucan. For a yeast infection. I knew it wasn’t a yeast infection. I know what a yeast infection looks like, smells like, and feels like. But I had nothing else to go on, and I was pregnant and scared, I just did what they said. And the next day, while teching my sixth graders, my water broke. I didn’t know that’s what happened—that’s how clueless I was. I went to the bathroom, I realized my pants were soaked. I actually went home, changed my clothes, called my doctor, left a message, and went back to teach my final class.
I don’t tell you this story because I’m looking for sympathy. I understand—yes, you are all very sorry for my loss. Please, you do not need to say that in the comments. I share my story because I don’t want any of you to be clueless as you go through your pregnancies. I don’t want you to be clueless when you’re at your doctor’s appointments. I want you to be informed. I want you to feel empowered. I want you to feel like this is your body, your birth, your pregnancy, and that you are in charge. I don’t want you to hand that power over to anyone. You know your body. You know what’s best for you.
I’m not at all trying to scare you. I share my truth because I want you to be prepared. Nobody wants to scare a pregnant woman, but when we don’t share these truths, too many of us end up struggling unnecessarily, unaware of the possibilities. Without this awareness, we can’t advocate for ourselves or prepare properly.
Professionally, I started in 2009 as a childbirth educator. From there, I became a doula and attended 20 or so births—but realized very quickly that the on-call lifestyle was not for me. I encapsulated the placenta of a client/friend in 2012, and I’ve been encapsulating since.
I then decided to earn my Perinatal Mental Health Specialist certification from Postpartum Support International because I believe in comprehensive postpartum care. I know placenta encapsulation can be a game-changer for lots of moms in preventing postpartum anxiety—but not all. I want to be able to cover all bases so that every mom has the support she needs, whether placenta pills work for her or not.
This isn’t just a job or some kind of fad for me. It’s about real, evidence-based care and giving moms every possible tool to have the postpartum experience they desire.
As I said, I struggled with postpartum anxiety after the birth of my second child. Although I had a planned home birth, he was very stubbornly breech (still stubborn today at age 15)—and I ended up with a C-section.
So, here I am—with my rainbow baby and a birth experience I didn’t plan for—he was also an IVF baby. These three things alone are huge risk factors for postpartum anxiety. Add in ADHD and autism, and I didn’t have a fighting chance.
Postpartum anxiety (with a side of rage) is no joke. It destroyed my marriage and affected my child. I still see the impact on him today.
When I had my third baby in 2014, I’d been encapsulating placentas for a few years and had gotten so much positive feedback from so many clients about how much better they felt, especially those who had struggled with a previous postpartum. So, of course, I processed my placenta.
That postpartum experience was a complete 180. This time, I got the birth I wanted—at home—and I had a supportive village of mom friends. I also knew what to expect. The first time around, you have no idea how many hours you'll spend stuck on the couch or how your whole world will change. The isolation is real—it feels like you’re ripped from the life you knew and thrown into an alien universe. It’s hard to be prepared for that. There were a lot of differences this time around, which is why studying the efficacy of placenta pills can be so tricky.
For me, the biggest sign that placenta encapsulation works is that I didn’t experience any random crying. You know, the postpartum experience of sitting there holding your baby, crying for no reason, and your partner asks what’s wrong and you have no idea. That’s hormonal stuff, and it didn’t happen with my pills. That’s not a placebo effect. My hormones felt much more balanced. Now, I’m not saying this happens for everyone, but it does happen for most, and I do fully believe placenta encapsulation works.
Recently, I considered phasing out placenta encapsulation because I was so sick of defending myself and my work from haters. I was sick of trying to convince people, especially uninformed doctors and nurses, about the safety and efficacy of placenta pills. I loathe confrontation, and I was burnt out, I guess.
But I’ve recently had a resurgence of energy and I’ve concluded that since I believe in this, then it is my duty to help as many women as possible. And honestly, if you're a care provider and your “patient” (pregnancy is not an illness) wants to encapsulate their placenta, and your immediate response is to shut them down without offering any alternatives to help protect them from postpartum anxiety, then you’re not doing your job. I was afraid to say these things before, but now, since learning about my neurodivergence and understanding that I’ve been masking my whole life, ‘m not afraid anymore. I’m done masking.
So here I am, ready to keep processing placentas until I’m 100 years old. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone because the clients I work with trust the process, trust their bodies, and are willing to do whatever they can to protect themselves. The reality is, we live in a society that doesn’t support us. As postpartum moms, the most we get is a 6-week checkup where they ask how we’re feeling, if we’re breastfeeding, if we’re still bleeding, and then, “Okay, you can have sex now.” That’s it. And that’s fucked up. No wonder 20-25% of us are struggling with postpartum anxiety or OCD. There’s a million reasons, but it all comes down to the fact that we don’t have villages. We don’t have the support we need. We’re living in a broken system. Of course, we’re struggling.
So, that’s my story. Part of it, anyway.
I’m Tiff, the placenta girl, and I’ll go toe-to-toe with anyone who wants to tell me this is bullshit. But that’s not my fight. My fight is with a broken system that doesn’t support you the way it should.
Here’s the thing—there’s more you can do. You don’t have to settle for “just another file” treatment from your OB. You deserve more than that. You deserve a team that’s in your corner, advocating for your well-being.
I care. I’m here for you as much as you need me to be. When you book with me, you can reach out anytime. I’m your go-to person. Some of you might need this level of support, some of you might not, and that’s okay. But if you do, I’m here.
And hey, if placenta encapsulation isn’t your thing, no worries—I still got you. As a perinatal mental health specialist, I’m here to help you navigate postpartum anxiety in a world that doesn't make it easy. You don’t have to go through this alone. That’s what I’m here for.
Certifications
Perinatal Mental Health Specialist, Postpartum Support International
Fair Play Facilitator, Fair Play Life
Bringing Baby Home Educator, Gottman Institute
Childbirth Educator & Postpartum Doula, Birthworks, International
Labor and Birth Doula, CAPPA
Independent Placenta Encapsulation Specialist, IPPA
Teacher of Social Studies, New Jersey
Certified Yoga Instructor, YCOM
