How Cass Found Her Way Back to Herself

My journey through a traumatic pregnancy, postpartum survival, health struggles, and the community that grew from it

There is no single moment that started this journey.

It was not one diagnosis, one medication, one number on the scale, or one morning when I suddenly decided to change my life. It was a collection of moments, some beautiful, some terrifying, and some that left me feeling like I did not recognize myself anymore.

Before Biohacking Babe Collective became a website, a Skool community, or even an idea Hollie and I could fully explain, it started with two women trying to feel better in their own bodies.

This is my side of that story.

The Pregnancy I Wasn’t Prepared For

When I became pregnant with my daughter, Leona, I knew pregnancy could be difficult. I knew birth could be unpredictable. But nothing prepared me for how quickly everything could become complicated or how deeply the experience would affect me afterward.

My pregnancy became medically complicated by cholestasis and atypical preeclampsia. Instead of spending the final weeks peacefully preparing for my baby, I was navigating appointments, symptoms, fear, and the constant knowledge that something could change at any moment.

At 37 weeks, I was induced.

I went into the hospital expecting that I would labor, deliver my daughter, and finally hold her. Instead, the induction failed, my body struggled, and the situation became increasingly serious.

I was given magnesium, and my body reacted horribly. I experienced what felt like complete physical shutdown. My kidneys were struggling, I was extremely sick, and I eventually needed an emergency C-section.

I also required two blood transfusions.

Birth is often described as empowering, beautiful, and instinctive. Mine felt like survival.

While I was fighting through my own complications, Leona was also struggling. There had been meconium, fluid in her lungs, and concerns related to Group B strep. She needed care in a NICU located approximately 45 minutes away from the hospital where I was recovering.

For seven days, we were separated.

I had just gone through an emergency surgery, serious complications, kidney issues, and blood transfusions. My baby was somewhere else, and I could not simply get out of bed and go to her.

That separation is one of the hardest parts to explain to someone who has not lived it. You have spent months carrying this baby. Every part of your body and mind is preparing to protect her. Then she is born, and suddenly she is gone while you are left in a hospital room trying to recover from something you have barely processed.

I was grateful she was receiving the care she needed. I was grateful we both survived. But gratitude and trauma can exist at the same time.

Being thankful does not erase what happened.

Postpartum Was Not a Fresh Start

When people talk about postpartum, there is often an unspoken expectation that the difficult part is over.

The baby is here. You are home. Now you heal, lose the pregnancy weight, settle into motherhood, and move forward.

That was not my reality.

I came home physically depleted and emotionally overwhelmed. I was healing from major abdominal surgery while trying to care for a newborn who had experienced her own difficult beginning. Leona dealt with reflux and feeding struggles, which meant a great deal of worry, trial and error, interrupted sleep, and long stretches of holding her upright after feedings.

I was trying to learn how to be her mom while still processing how close everything had come to going differently.

There was no dramatic “bounce back.”

There was survival.

My body did not feel like mine anymore. I was exhausted, uncomfortable, inflamed, and carrying more weight than felt manageable for me. I also have congenital hip dysplasia, so additional weight and inflammation were not only affecting how I looked. They affected my comfort, mobility, and daily life.

At the same time, I was dealing with the mental load of new motherhood, anxiety, broken sleep, and the pressure to somehow fix myself while caring for everyone else.

I loved my daughter more than I could explain.

I also missed myself.

Both were true.

When “Just Try Harder” Wasn’t the Answer

One of the hardest parts of struggling with weight and health is how quickly people assume it comes down to discipline.

Eat less. Move more. Stop making excuses.

But food noise is not the same thing as simply enjoying food. It can feel like a constant conversation happening in your brain, what you are going to eat, what you should not eat, whether you already ruined the day, and whether you will ever feel in control again.

I wanted help quieting that noise. I wanted to feel better physically. I wanted energy, less inflammation, and the ability to be more present in my own life.

I eventually tried a compounded GLP-1 medication. I was paying hundreds of dollars each month and kept telling myself I needed to stay patient.

But I was barely seeing progress.

What I was experiencing was nausea, exhaustion, and a feeling that reminded me far too much of being pregnant again. I kept trying because I wanted it to work. I thought maybe I needed to give it more time, tolerate more discomfort, or stop expecting things to feel easy.

Eventually, I tried a different option.

That experience was complicated in a different way. I did lose a significant amount of weight, and I noticed benefits such as reduced inflammation. For the first time in a long time, I could see that something was changing.

But my stomach was not okay.

I began experiencing upper abdominal pain after eating, nausea, uncomfortable burping, burning in my chest, and eventually symptoms consistent with gastritis. Even when I reduced what I was taking, my body was still telling me something was wrong.

That created a difficult mental battle.

How do you walk away from something that is giving you results when it is also making you sick?

It would have been easy to ignore the symptoms because the scale was moving. It would have been easy to tell myself that discomfort was the price I had to pay.

But becoming smaller was never supposed to mean becoming miserable.

Taking a break was frustrating, but it was necessary. My stomach gradually improved, and I had to accept that progress is not progress when your body is begging you to stop.

Learning to Listen Instead of Chasing

My experiences made me realize how easy it is to become obsessed with finding the one perfect answer.

The perfect medication.

The perfect supplement.

The perfect protocol.

The perfect combination that will fix your weight, sleep, skin, pain, digestion, energy, and confidence all at once.

But bodies do not work that way.

What feels life-changing for one person may make another person feel terrible. Something can provide a benefit while also creating a side effect that makes it unsustainable. A lower amount is not always harmless, and more is not always better.

I learned that lesson again when I had a frightening reaction to a research compound. Almost immediately, I became dizzy and felt as though I might pass out. A large, raised reaction appeared at the site, and for several minutes I felt completely out of it.

I did not try it again.

That moment reminded me that curiosity still requires caution. Research does not replace listening to your body, and excitement about a possible benefit should never override a serious reaction.

Over time, I began researching different areas of wellness and biohacking, including peptides and other tools people were discussing for recovery, digestion, inflammation, skin, hair, sleep, appetite, and overall well-being.

I did not enter this world as an expert.

I entered it as a tired mom who wanted understandable information.

I wanted to know what people were talking about, why they were using certain things, what the actual

research said, what risks were being overlooked, and why so much of the information felt either overly clinical or recklessly casual.

I found helpful information, but I also found confusion, gatekeeping, exaggerated promises, conflicting opinions, and people speaking with complete certainty about things that were not certain at all.

The more I learned, the more I realized how much beginners needed a place where they could ask questions without being made to feel stupid.

Then Came Hollie

Hollie and I connected through our own experiences, frustrations, and determination to learn.

Neither of us wanted to create a space that pretended there was one right path for everyone. We did not want another community built around pressure, perfection, or miracle promises.

We wanted what we had needed when we were starting:

A place where the information was easier to understand.

A place where people could admit they were confused.

A place where someone could ask a basic question without being mocked.

A place for honest conversations about both the benefits and the ugly parts.

A place that was educational, supportive, and actually fun to be part of.

What began as conversations between us grew into a Discord community. Then came the website, our Skool community, educational courses, beginner guides, calculators, live conversations, research files, and more ideas than we have hours in the day.

Biohacking Babe Collective was never created because we had perfect health journeys.

It was created because we did not.

We know what it feels like to spend hours researching and still feel unsure. We know what it feels like to be desperate for something to work. We know how easy it is to overlook warning signs when you are finally seeing results.

We also know how powerful it can be when someone says, “You are not the only one going through this.”

More Than Weight Loss

For a long time, I believed feeling better would start when I lost enough weight.

Weight was part of it, but it was never the whole story.

Feeling better also meant addressing pain and inflammation.

It meant protecting my stomach instead of forcing myself to tolerate constant discomfort.

It meant learning about my body without treating it like a failed project.

It meant accepting that I had survived a traumatic pregnancy and birth, even if I had not fully processed it at the time.

It meant acknowledging that becoming a mother changed me physically and emotionally.

It meant rebuilding confidence through small decisions rather than waiting to wake up as a completely different person.

And eventually, it meant using what I had learned to make the path less overwhelming for someone else.

What I Want Other Women to Know

You are not weak because something that worked for someone else did not work for you.

You are not lazy because your body is struggling.

You are not ungrateful because motherhood was harder than you expected.

You can love your child completely and still grieve the pregnancy, birth, or postpartum experience you hoped you would have.

You are allowed to want weight loss while also deciding that a certain side effect is not worth it.

You are allowed to change your mind.

You are allowed to stop.

You are allowed to ask more questions.

And you are allowed to begin again without treating every past attempt like a failure.

My journey is still happening. I am still learning what supports my body, what does not, and what sustainable health actually looks like for me.

I do not have a perfect ending to give you.

What I have is a life that feels more like mine than it did before.

I have a daughter I fought to get home to.

I have a deeper respect for what my body survived.

I have a friendship and partnership with Hollie that turned our frustration into something meaningful.

And I have a community that reminds me every day that our hardest experiences can become the reason someone else feels less alone.

That is why Biohacking Babe Collective exists.

The website may be our front door, but the community is our living room, a place to learn, laugh, ask questions, share experiences, and figure things out together.

We are not here because we have mastered everything.

We are here because nobody should have to navigate all of this alone.

This blog shares my personal experience and is not medical advice. Health conditions, medications, supplements, and research compounds can affect each person differently. Always discuss medical concerns, serious symptoms, pregnancy complications, and treatment decisions with a qualified healthcare professional.