I was really excited to write this post. There are so many layers to any woman’s story of conceiving, being pregnant, and birthing, and the postpartum experience is equally as layered, sacred, tender, and gritty. While I don’t think I’ll share details of Griffin’s birth here (but would always be happy to share to any direct inquiry!) I really did want to put words to my personal experience after giving birth.

(P.S. I made a separate post for my best postpartum tips - which is as much a note to self as it is a small but practical list for anyone planning for their own postpartum time! Read that here and hit me with your best tips!)

Our pregnancy announcement for Griffin! Thank you auntie Nancy for these images!

I had read all the books and taken a preparatory class to get ready for birth. And while some things didn’t go as planned (which in itself is to be expected), we had a wonderful birth experience with Griffin.

But I did zilch, nada, nothing to prepare myself for postpartum with a newborn, aka, the 4th trimester.

I had casually read about the cozy, bonding, home-bound newborn phase. “It’s so hard but so precious” echoed in tender tones in my mind from conversations with mom-vets. I piecemealed information about infant CPR, how to use the snot-sucker, and how to change tiny little diapers. I remembered random tidbits of advice — like to eat well, drink lots of water, ask for help around the house, and sleep when the baby sleeps.

And while all of those tidbits are true, they were like little yellow sticky notes in the wind of the hurricane that was post-birth life at home.

LOL! Look at how wrinkly she was! This was about a week after giving birth.

Thankfully, during our Bradley Method class pre-baby, our instructor Susan briefly mentioned forcing ourselves to do as little as physically possible for 3 weeks after having the baby. “You’ll want to get up and get something done to feel normal, you’ll want to push yourself and go on a walk or clean the kitchen — don’t. You’ll be recovering for months if you do that. But if you stay in bed or on the couch for 3 weeks, your body will recover much faster.”

That sounded like good, reasonable advice, and as a lover of Cultural Anthropology (it was part of my college major) I knew that different societies around the world have varying traditions for women who have just given birth. Some stay in bed for the entire 4th trimester (3 months after birth) only to eat, sleep, and feed/bond with the baby, while a gaggle of family members and neighbors (mostly women) take care of the housework and caring for the other kids. Three weeks sounded like a good start.

Even so, when I told some people of my 3-week goal, even limiting well-intentioned walks outside, I was met with blinking eyes and confused faces.

It seems our culture is as confused as I was about what a healthy 4th trimester looks like.

Things like meal trains took on an entirely different meaning to me. Before having babies, I felt like they were nice things to do, kind of a southern tradition in which you should probably home make the meal and Grubhub gift cards would be considered tacky. Sometimes I would omit myself altogether from them, feeling like it was just too much to try to do and my meal would likely not make much of a difference.

Can I just say - praise be to GOD for meal trains! Praise God for Grubhub and Door Dash in the time of newborns! I was literally crying alligator tears of thankfulness each and every time someone came to our door with a meal, or filled my inbox with golden food-delivery money.

Our postpartum time was unique in that it coincided with the beginning of quarantine.

Thankfully I didn’t have much else to compare it to. Our focus regarding that greatly revolved around whether or not our partners/spouses could be in the delivery room with us (I was allowed to have John PTL but no one else — no doula and no birth photographer!), if we’d have to wear a mask during delivery (technically yes, but the nurses were gracious and let us go without for the most part), and how/if we would allow visitors into our home once the baby arrived.

I’m a pretty private person when it comes to my home-cocoon. Because I grew up in an emotionally unstable and sometimes unsafe home (a story I’d love to share with you sometime soon, with much respect and grace extended to my parents who are still a part of my life), my personal spaces are very important and sacred to me. I knew I wouldn’t do great inviting people into my home with every meal drop-off right after having a baby. In that way, Covid seemed like a helpful natural boundary to have when filtering home visits after Griffin was born.

I believe I was in the hospital, with a very fussy newborn trying to latch to my very, very sore boob, when I looked at John and said “I hope people come to visit us!”

I just knew I would need help and support. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep my space tidy, keep myself clean and fed, and keep the baby clean, fed, and napped all in sync. I foresaw the laundry piling, the bedsheets needing a wash, and my kitchen looking abandoned, while I hobbled from the bed to the toilet (postpartum care under there is for real) to the couch. John had to be back at work after 2 weeks.

Our family and friends were so kind to ask what would be required if they came for a visit. Most of our family visited after a week or so, and since it was the beginning of quarantine without much information on how the virus functioned, everyone washed their hands and most of them wore masks. Some of my family in healthcare did not visit for a while, due to seeing patients all day.

That was surprisingly hard for me! What I wanted most in those early days was for someone to insert themselves in my space, hold my baby while I slept, do my dishes or fold my laundry, and then make a sandwich for me! And I will say - Aunt Becky and Nancy did just that, but they had to do a decent amount of cajoling to get me to actually accept.

Lessons learned here? Incorporating inviting others into my home and personal space a little more during normal life might help it seem less daunting in those fragile post-birth days. Also - accept when someone tells you that you can go take a nap and let them fold your laundry and make you a sandwich without a courtesy “you don’t have to do that!” - just a healthy-sized “thank you!” (More lessons learned and tips for postpartum here!)

And I cried a lot.

Like, a lot. My precious body had done such hard work and was cleansing itself after the hormonal and physical rollercoaster that is making and delivering a baby. I was able to breastfeed, but learning that left me bewildered at the nonchalant picture I had in my head about what breastfeeding was like.

I had a million questions, and because of the pandemic, I had limited resources of real-life, real-time assistance to assure me that I was doing it right and Griffin was getting nutrients. God bless the family who visited during those first weeks because I had zero filters with my boobs and my crying! LOL!

I was also, like most parents of newborns (and newborn parents) not getting more than 2-3 hours of sleep at a time. Realistically, it was more like 30-90 minutes at a time. During the day, I rarely napped, because Griffin was a very fussy newborn. She never liked to be set down, and we had to be holding, rocking, and shushing her, simultaneously, in order for her to nap at all during the day.

It felt like anything that would normally bring me comfort or joy was, during that stretch of weeks, unavailable to me. The restoration of sleep, the peace of my home, control over healthful meals, and the autonomy to read, write, or leave the house for a coffee were indefinitely on pause.

With good advice, John’s help, and very real guidance from the Holy Spirit, it wasn’t long before a rhythm started to appear out of the chaos.

John’s mom told me to go outside as often as I could. I panic-purchased two books from one of my favorite authors during that time, and was determined to crack open the pages at least one time a day, even if it was for 5 minutes. (Panic-purchasing during postpartum is also very, very real! And the advertisements know it!)

Griffin slept longer stretches in the night early on, and our family nurse practitioner was the perfect sounding board for this tired first-time mother. She told us to just let her sleep and not to worry about it! After that first 4-hour stretch, I felt like I could conquer anything!

(And can I just tell you, having a healthcare professional that is caring, careful, but also even-keeled and relaxed in their approach made all the difference for me! Not to mention, she welcomed my texts to her personal phone - who does that?!)

John was my actual hero during this time. Even though he had to be at work the next morning, he was not only willing but wanted to get up in the night with me for feedings. He told me that was his time to be with her, and he didn’t want to miss it. He delivered her to me, I fed her, and then he changed her and shushed her back to sleep while I slept. I type with tears welled up in my eyes that I am so thankful for that.

I girded up my body and mind to be active (er, determined) in getting Griffin to nap during the day so her little fussy body could rest. And even if mine couldn’t really rest during that time, I watched whatever HGTV I wanted to, and found spaces that Griffin enjoyed sleeping most - on me while I was in a rocking chair, and in the car!

Days turned to weeks turned to months, and by month 3 postpartum, I felt like life was returning to our home.

I was making meals and planning for the months ahead with our little family. I was taking Griffin out and about regularly, even if it was just to Target, Aldi, or a local coffee shop. She would often nap while I could sip and read, and meet with friends. That first smile of hers to me let me know that all the care and time and love I was putting in was being stored up in an actual heart and soul.

I would often tell myself “there is grace around every corner.” If we had a tough morning, I knew there would be a glimmer of rest and calm to come soon. I learned to text a friend whenever I needed to.

I made it a point to be vulnerable and reach out to women in my church in a similar season of little-little children, even though our relationships weren’t close before. Because it was during the pandemic I didn’t want to offend anyone by basically saying I need in-person friends, but I went there! Thankfully, these women were just as hungry for friendships during the unbelievably isolating time of quarantine as a mom with littles.

Griffin turned one year old on April 21st, and we are thriving as a family of 3 (with one on the way!)

That’s not to say it’s not without challenges, but Griffin is our delight! She is so smart, kind, and funny. Life with a little one poses challenges to marriage, money, and that general sense of unplanned freedom so present in life before kids. But this, THIS is the GOOD STUFF of life! It’s our legacy. It’s worth fighting for, being intentional for, and devoting yourself to like you would any other meaningful job or calling.

She loved the smash pie I made! Recipe is here

The happiest, funniest baby I’ve ever met, and I get to be her mama!

To celebrate the last year, and the coming year with the arrival of our little boy in early August, I’m thrilled to do a little giveaway!

Please comment below with what season of life you are in or are looking forward to! Also, what is one hard and one great thing about that season?

I want to send you a favorite book of mine that is specific to your season, along with some other goodies to bring you some joy. (To get a sense of my giveaway style, look here!) There is much to celebrate!

Giveaway entries will end May 14th, and a winner chosen on May 15th! Shop my postpartum must-haves here!

Looking forward to hearing from you!

Sam

(P.S. Looking for practical postpartum tips? Check out my best postpartum tips here, which is as much a note to self as it is a small but practical list for anyone planning for their own postpartum time! Moms, hit me with your best tips!)

My Postpartum Experience (+ a giveaway!)