Why I Shaved My Head in the Fourth Trimester: A Latina Mama’s Journey of Healing and Rebirth

I’m the garden. I need to get rid of the weed and work on the soil. The dirt. Get my hands dirty, hair loss. Loss hair. Am I losing something? Is losing how we win? Making space. I need to make space but the only way to make space is by force. Or gently moved to shift. God knows what I need at every turn. I been needed a hair cut. I thought I needed a trim. Postpartum hair loss allows me to see what I need clearly. A reset. A fresh start. Shave it. Shave it all off. How low can I go? How fresh can I start? Touching my scalp feels refreshing. Feels new. I cut my hair during my first postpartum but not as low. This time I felt I needed to go lower. I needed to let go. I wanted to hold on a bit but God said no just let it go. My hair used to be my identity. It used to be who I was. Now I learned it’s just hair. A part of my body but not who I am. My hair doesn’t make me.

My energy is what matters. My heart. My spirit. My voice. I am more than my hair. I didn’t lose anything. I am not lost. I am making space for something new to be born. For something new to grow. My hair was carrying the weight of the last 5 years. The burdens, the tears, the lessons, the fears, the struggle, the prayers, the hope. As my hair began to thin I knew I had to make a choice. Use remedios to heal to save to aguantar or allow it to go as a whole. To make space for something new to grow. Little by little with love and care. With more attention. With more intention. Liberate myself from the burden of hair care. Allow myself the freedom of feeling myself from head to toe.

Embrace this new skin. Embrace this new body while I navigate postpartum. Make sense of the soft skin. Follow the directions of my new stretch marks. Embrace the loose parts as they return to their rightful places to continue to carry me forward. I now understand hair loss during the postpartum journey as the last cleanse in the final trimester. The fourth trimester gives birth to a new woman. I am not the same woman I was almost one year ago. I am growing too. As I count up the life of my new baby, I’m also counting up to a new version of me. Hair loss is how I find this new me. The shedding makes space for the new woman. Like cutting weeds from grass. My body is the garden. I’m the rose. I will grow again. Stronger as a woman but soft as a madre.