the stoned at home mom: because moms who use cannabis aren’t bad moms.

Reclaiming the narrative, one puff at a time 💨

Let’s get one thing straight: moms who use cannabis aren’t bad moms. And yet, the stigma still hangs over us like a cloud of judgment thicker than the smoke we exhale.

When I first wrote about my experience as a cannamama in 2021, I was angry. Rightfully so. I had just been through the kind of hospital trauma no mother should experience. ESPECIALLY not during one of the most sacred transitions of her life. I had been judged, underestimated, and shamed by the very people who were supposed to support me. And I’m not alone.

But since then, I’ve grown. As a mom, as a woman, as a human. And I’ve realized that healing doesn’t just come from rage, it comes from reclaiming your story with truth, softness, and unapologetic power.

So here it is. A refined, re-grounded version of my story. Still honest. Still unfiltered. But clearer, wiser, and ready to help other moms know: you’re not wrong, you’re not reckless, and you’re not alone.

🌿 Motherhood and the Plant They Told Us to Fear

First of all… hi, and high. If you’ve landed here, chances are you’re a curious cannamama, a quietly supportive partner, or someone FINALLY ready to question what society has always told us about mothers who use cannabis. Either way, welcome. This is a safe, judgment-free space rooted in lived experience, radical honesty, and plant-powered self-trust.

I started writing and sharing about cannabis and motherhood back in 2021, not long after I had my son. I was postpartum, under-supported, and deeply rattled by what I went through during and after birth, not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually, and systemically. Now, a few years later, I’ve grown into myself. As a mother, a writer, and passionate advocate. I’ve come to understand that one of the most revolutionary things we can do as parents is tell the truth. Especially when that truth flies in the face of stigma.

So here’s mine.

Cannabis isn’t new. What is new is the way moms like me are refusing to hide it. We’re done pretending that the only “good” mothers are sober ones, or that plant medicine is inherently reckless when used by a parent.

The truth? I used cannabis during my pregnancy. Not to party. Not to escape. But because I needed relief from relentless nausea, insomnia, and food aversions so intense I could barely drink water. I consulted with multiple providers. I was open and transparent. And time and time again, I was met with vague shrugs, outdated warnings, and a quiet undercurrent of “just don’t talk about it.”

But I’m done not talking about it.

Because when we stop talking, we make room for judgment to fester. And that judgment shows up in real, damaging ways, like being drug-tested without consent in the hospital. Like being treated as a threat instead of a mother. Like being denied support when you’re literally begging for help breastfeeding your newborn.

🏥 My Birth Experience: What Actually Happened

I lived in California. Cannabis is legal there. But legal doesn’t mean protected, especially if you're a mother of color or someone who relies on state insurance. When I went into labor, I didn’t know I’d be tested without my knowledge. I didn’t know that a positive result would trigger a cascade of suspicion.

The second my son was born, a urine collection bag was placed on him, something no one discussed with me. Meanwhile, I was in physical pain, producing more milk than I could handle, and desperate for support. I knew my baby was struggling to latch, and I knew something was off. But all night long, I was dismissed, reassured, and ignored.

Then the pediatrician came in, not to help, but to blame and accuse. She accused me of being lazy. She threatened to send my son to the NICU. And when I explained that I had repeatedly asked for help, her tone changed. Only after I told the case worker everything did the staff finally take action. Suddenly, the breast pump appeared. The lactation consultant rolled in. And I realized this is what happens when mothers are pushed to the edge, they’re gaslit, then guilted, then finally “rescued” just in time to cover institutional neglect.

🍼 I Wasn't the Problem. The System Was.

For the next year, I tracked everything. Every feeding, every wet diaper, every ounce pumped. Not because I’m Type A, but because I was scared. Scared that someone might come knocking, scared that I’d be seen as unfit, scared that using a plant that helped me survive pregnancy would somehow make me a danger to the child I loved more than anything.

And here’s what I learned: The moms who are judged the hardest? We’re often the ones trying the hardest. The ones making purées from scratch. The ones researching every ingredient. The ones crying over a pizza roll because we wanted to do everything “right,” even when we’re bone-tired.

We aren’t unfit. We’re unheard.

🍃 Let’s Talk Science (Briefly)

Yes, trace amounts of THC can show up in breast milk, but the amount is tiny, usually less than 3%. (see my previous, in depth blog post about cannabis & breastfeeding.) By comparison, many of the prescription medications routinely given during pregnancy and postpartum have much higher transfer rates and far riskier side effect profiles.

Insomnia meds like Zolpidem and Eszopiclone have been linked to dangerous sleep behaviors, in some cases, fatal ones. Nausea drugs like Xonvea (formerly Diclegis) have raised concerns about potential birth defects and increased sedation. These meds are often pushed on women, while cannabis, a plant with no known lethal dose, is demonized.

We need to start asking why. And we need to stop pretending that all pharmaceutical risk is acceptable while all cannabis use is abuse.

✨ For the Mama’s Still Hiding…

If you’re secretly hitting your vape after bedtime and worrying what it says about you, hear this: it says you’re human. It says you’re finding what works. It says you’re prioritizing your mental health so you can be more present with your children.

Cannabis doesn’t make you a bad mom. Stigma does. Lack of support does. Silence does.

So let’s keep talking. Let’s hold space for each other. Let’s unlearn the shame and rewrite the narrative. Not just for us, but for the next generation of moms who deserve better.

You are allowed to trust yourself.

You are allowed to feel good in your body.

And you can absolutely be a stoned-at-home mom and a GOOD mom all at the same time 💕