A Non-Exhaustive List of Things I Wish I Knew about Postpartum
I read the pregnancy books, I listened to my most honest mom friends, I meditated, went to therapy, I did it all. I thought I was ready. I was not. To put it lightly, postpartum rocked me to my core. It is such an intense and vulnerable time that really cannot be explained—you just have to experience it. Anyway, there are a million and one things I wish I knew going in that I wanted to get down in writing somewhere. If not for someone else, for me if and when I ever decide to do this again. Ok, so…
Birth is Battle
The birth is all I thought about, that was my first mistake (coming home with a tiny infant and being left to your own devices to keep it alive, now THAT’S scary). I obviously knew getting a human out of my body wasn’t going to be a cake walk, but I was not prepared for the intensity and trauma that would be involved in the process. Everyone’s birth goes differently—maybe you peacefully pushed your baby out in a warm tub while Bon Iver softly played in the background, but that was not the case for myself and I know many others. I was pumped full of fluids, exhausted, attempting to push a large-headed boy out of my vagina for going on three hours. I touched the head, I felt the head, but try as I might I simply could not get him out. So, off we went to the operating room where a quick attempt at forceps (no dice there and thank god for that) led to an unplanned C-section. I was devastated. None of it was what I envisioned. I left the operating room with a scar on my belly, a catheter that kept me trapped in bed, a puffy face and limbs thanks to hours of fluids and massive bruises on my arms from a botched attempt at an IV for my epidural. I thought I was going to get a dreamy hospital bed photo where I looked cutely disheveled proudly holding my sweet little boy. No such luck. Instead I have photos where I look puffy and scared, but in time I’ve grown to love them in their own way. The processing of my birth could probably be a book I have so much to say, but what I am trying to get at here is birth is serious business. It is a major event that requires major grace and space to heal from. But onto the next hurdle…
Breastfeeding is Hard. You’ll Do It Constantly.
I knew breastfeeding wasn’t going to be easy, but again, I really thought that I would somehow sail through this notoriously difficult motherhood rite of passage. I did get lucky in a few ways—I had no nipple pain, Em latched quite easily, I never got mastitis. But, the intricacies of milk supply, the notion that my infant should be on a “feeding schedule", and the immense pressure placed on new moms had me TRIPPIN’. Now to this day I think that my struggles with breastfeeding were the result of a number of things. 1. Your body is less likely to be pumping out that good, good milk when your anxiety is a 13/10 at all times and you’re forgetting to eat. 2. I had completely unrealistic ideas of how feeding should look (spoiler: whoever told you your baby should eat at precisely every 3 hours and then nap for 2 hours is a god damn liar). While I did decide to stop breastfeeding when Emmett was around 5 months (no shame, HUGE formula supporter over here), we did have some nice moments at the beginning. It is honestly quite magical to have a tiny baby fall asleep on you after you’ve given them a sweet lil snack from your boobs. That said, I think there is still a groove in my couch from where I spent hours upon hours feeding him (in the heat of summer, yuck), my first public breastfeeding experience I had to take my whole top off and put my hair in a bun I was so flustered, the sound of the breast pump gives me PTSD, and I do not, will never miss only wearing things my boob could easily escape from.
Your Body Goes Berserk.
I spent hours (honestly, I feel embarrassed now just thinking about it) agonizing over which linen robe to bring in my hospital bag and which of the several newborn outfits I purchased I should bring for Em’s debut into society. I was certainly not aware of the myriad things that would happen to my body in the days and weeks that followed birth. Again, not exhaustive, but here’s a few things that absolutely shocked me:
You will not only be changing your child’s diaper, you’ll be changing your own! I wore those hospital undies and a massive pad for quite awhile. The bleeding post-birth is very annoying and very real.
When your milk comes in, you feel like you have an insanely high fever and will likely wake up soaked in sweat (at least I did). You might think you have COVID-19 (a plight of 2020 moms that I think only new moms in 1918 would also understand).
Breastfeeding makes you absolutely ravenous. Oh, and next-level thirsty. I would destroy whatever food people had dropped off that day after feeding Em in the middle of the night.
Everything good that happens to you in pregnancy (luscious hair, glowing skin) quickly goes away when you’re home from the hospital and settled into real life. For the first few months I literally looked like the walking dead, all day, every day. It was cute.
You will feel like when you try to walk after taking ski boots off: alien, odd, disoriented and like something is missing.
The sweat is constant. And the smell…… ohhhhhh child
Spontaneity Is a Thing of the Past.
Are you the kind of person who likes to pop to a cafe on a whim or last-minute decide to spend a loungey day at the beach? Yah, those days are over. This should have been obvious, but taking a small infant anywhere is a massive ordeal. The first time we had to take Emmett to a midwife appointment I was paralyzed by the responsibility of packing this small human’s bag. There are so many things to consider: Will he need more clothes? (yes, for sure he will shit through his outfit), How many extra soothers does he need?, How many diapers? Do babies need extra socks? Do babies wear socks in the summer?! It does get easier, but this learning curve was steep for me and quite often led me to staying home because it was just easier.
Your Baby Might Feel Like A Stranger. That’s Ok.
You may form an immediate bond with your baby, but I did not. I had a lot of shame around this, but now the more I think about it, the more I realize it makes total sense. Of course this little person who now lives in your house and needs your body, your attention and everything you have at all hours of the day feels foreign. If I am being completely honest, I wasn’t fully into the idea of being Emmett’s mom until he was about 5 or 6 months. Yes, I thought he was exceptionally cute and marvelled at the fact that I made him and he was mine, but I was oftentimes filled with doubt and regret and missed my old self, my old life. I think this is talked about more now, but not enough. It is very real and definitely does not mean you are a monster. Seriously.
The Tears Will Be A-Plenty!
The intensity of postpartum emotions are not stressed enough—everything about it truly isn’t discussed enough (it’s not even deemed as a real word, the amount of times it has been auto-corrected to post party is NOT ok. It is not at all a party). In the early days I was extremely weepy. I am always emotional but this was something else entirely. I sobbed at commercials, every gift that arrived, the kindness of strangers, the immensity of this responsibility I now had. The weepiness then shifted to doubt, fear and exhaustion-fuelled tears. There are so many spots in the city that I walk by now and remember vividly sitting at, breastfeeding, crying behind my sunglasses wondering what the hell I had done. For months, anytime Emmett would cry in public I would immediately start crying myself (I would try to hold it together, but most times it didn’t work). Basically what I am trying to say is get the Kleenex ready, OR, if you ever see a mom with a crying baby in public, look her straight in the eyes and say “you are doing an incredible job.” Trust me, she needs to hear it.
I really could go on, and on. And I will. But for now I will leave it here. These months of transition have been the most profound and transformational times in my life. They turned my world upside down. So much more attention, care and grace is needed for women in this period. If you are like I was and googling “when will I ever feel normal again?” the answer is, one day you will be walking down the street and you will actually smell the cherry blossoms, you’ll actually taste your latte and you’ll realize, in some strange way, you are you again.