Getting Sticky With Dominique Drakeford

Researcher, environmental educator, and cultural strategist, Dominique Drakeford does everything on her own terms—from her professional passions and intellectual trajectory to her pregnancy, birth, and motherhood. Mom to two (Sage and Sequoia), Drakeford has become a master of staying true to her own “core value system,” with her Black identity informing her journey in transformative ways, weaving ancestral wisdom into the fabric of her daily life. 

As the eldest daughter from a complex family dynamic, motherhood was not the only catalyst for change—Dominique has spent years deconstructing traditional concepts of kinship to affirm her personhood and her chosen way of life. Originally from East Oakland, she seamlessly integrates ancestral wisdom, hip-hop culture, and community storytelling into her daily life to transform environmental narratives. 

As with many of our Getting Sticky subjects, come for the stunning pictures—it doesn’t hurt that her husband, Timothy Smith, is a professional photographer—and stay for the honest words about family dynamics, home birth, and how you can, in fact, get pregnant while breastfeeding. 

Words by Synclaire Warren, Images by Timothy Smith.

“One of the most insane collaborative adventures of my lifetime”

Parenthood happens to you and for you. I think about this constantly because that's how I felt about becoming a mother. I often felt I had so much to do, while also having a human being relying on me at home.

With my son Sage, my fiancé Tim and I were planning to start trying to have a child. We had just purchased ovulation strips, and I was in the mentality that it would take at least six months to conceive. We had just started the planning process and the "pre-try" when we got pregnant.

So we were like, ‘Oh s*it.’ I hear so many stories of it taking months—for some couples, years—with some still trying to this day after having tried for a long time. 

But we got pregnant and it was very exciting.  But at the same time, it was the early pandemic, which brought the nuances of scarcity in the world with fear and uncertainty. But that was coupled with the certainty of knowing that I was getting ready to carry life and go on one of the most insane collaborative adventures of my lifetime. It was powerful and fun. 

Getting (really) real about family 

On the flip side, I don't have a relationship with my parents. I had to delve into what that means.  It’s one thing for me as an independent woman or being in a couple to be estranged from my parents, but getting ready to bring life into the world required a process of reimagination.

I am still trying to compartmentalize, or rather unearth, what this relationship means, because it shifts with each season. But, in still processing it, I would say that in a nutshell, my parents had a lot of control issues. Ultimately, they didn't like how I was governing my life, they didn't like the partner that I chose, and they didn't like the fact that they couldn't control my pathways and how I think anymore.

Especially as the oldest child, I was always looking for approval and affirmations. I was always sort of the "yes" child. My sister, on the other hand—the Virgo—she was the radical “child,” but I was everybody's firstborn. I was always the “pedestal baby.” 

We’ve been estranged for around 10 years. There came a point when I had to set healthy boundaries and, through that process, it turned into World War—whatever number you want to put on there. It became very explosive. I had to accept the fact that there are likely mental health issues woven in there. It became very extreme on their end to the point where they would tell family and friends lies. 

They would fabricate things to create a narrative that made them look a certain way. Ultimately, what I've had to understand is that they couldn't relinquish control. They didn't have the tools to meet me where I was or to support me in the way that I needed. It got very detrimental, dangerous, and toxic. We separated with no communication whatsoever. It's just a crazy whirlwind because folks who meet me would never know unless I tell them.

Truth >>> the facade 

I think, too, there is a Black American cultural layer, because there is a necessity to have the facade of a healthy relationship being present in the world as two successful Black parents. But is keeping that was more important than delayering the toxicity and getting to the root of the issues? It's crazy or even ironic but I had an immaculate childhood, which is something I would never take away.

The biggest thing is that when I found out I was pregnant, I still didn't want them to hear about it on the street. I still had that level of respect. But when I called to tell them, the only response was "okay" before they hung up the phone. That's when I knew—because, as you would imagine, for a lot of people, if there's a child involved, coming, or even after the child has arrived, they might need some time, and then there would be a paradigm shift. But no, I think it cemented their disdain even more, and that's when I knew that y'all are really fucked up in the head because your grandchildren are on the way.

A chaotic home birth, but a beautiful one nonetheless.

It's crazy because I didn't have any symptoms or anything, but something in my gut or my spirit was like, "Let me take a pregnancy test." I wasn't throwing up or anything; I was just like, "Let me take a pregnancy test." And lo and behold, the reaction was just like, "Holy shit, I know. I know." 

Sage's home birth experience was tough,  because it was my first one. So everybody was excited. I had an apartment full of people going in and out. It was a lot and it was beautiful in the sense that we had such a strong support system. But it also gave me a level of anxiety. There was just a lot going on spiritually.

He was two weeks late; for one of those weeks, I was in active labor with continuous contractions. They never stopped. So I had to do a hard reset, because I realized, 'I'm not trying to have this baby in the hospital, and I need a body, mind, spirit alignment.' So, we had to send everybody home, the midwife and doula included. It was almost like a boot camp to get the contractions moving—doing everything: castor oil, tonics, and exercise. 

After 36 hours of hard, active labor at home—following seven days of contractions— everyone was anxious, a complication I remember was the cord being wrapped around his neck. Our midwife was also an OBGYN with 10 years of experience, which provided a lot of comfort; we wanted that blend of a holistic and hospital-based approach for our first home birth. 

The cord wrapped around his neck. It's funny re-watching the video—she performed some kind of maneuver so fast. I thought, 'Oh, she was good.' Also, my placenta got stuck, the cord broke, and she had to reach in and take the placenta out.

With Sequoia, it was easy peasy. I birthed most of the time by myself with Sequoia. I was in communication with them, but I let Tim and my sister go to sleep. We didn't have as many people coming in and out. I let everybody rest because I knew they would have to manage Sage as well. I pretty much birthed by myself until it was time to call the midwife and doula to get everything out. It was so much quicker. I think the entire process—I started having contractions late at night and gave birth to Sequoia in the afternoon.

Turns out, breastfeeding isn’t contraception

While I was breastfeeding Sage, I was under the impression that you couldn't get pregnant if your period hadn't returned. Since my period hadn't come back yet, I just assumed it wasn't possible. It wasn't even a thought in my mind.

I was breastfeeding Sage for almost two years. During that time, I got pregnant, still breastfeeding. I had no period and that extended into Sequoia’s pregnancy. In total, I didn't have my period for almost three years, but that was also almost three straight years of breastfeeding.

I had such beautiful postpartum experiences: no hospital and no vaginal tearing both times. I want to add that my midwife performed perineal massages, which made a huge difference. I was walking within a couple of days and everything felt good. I think the recovery was more mental and emotional as opposed to physical—just refinding my body and what that means, while also being tired as sh*t. The perineal massages were performed throughout the whole process to make sure everything was loose.

It's literally a whole team working together with the intentionality of making sure everything is okay, including making sure they're giving you the right herbs and everything.

Core value systems >>> 

At the end of the day, reflecting on home birth, my experience with my parents, and raising two children, it is all a learning experience. While it may sound cliché, I am navigating and learning as I go, especially from my two little ones. I am moving through motherhood by being very open while sticking to our core value systems and trying to figure shit out.