It’s hard to believe, but our baby is twelve weeks old, which means he and I are almost through the fourth trimester. I dare not say I’m almost finished being postpartum, because for the rest of my life, I am postpartum. I have had challenges, like crying uncontrollably in the bathroom convinced I’d never heal. Or snapping at my caring, loving husband about bone broth because I was bone-tired. Or feeling socially overwhelmed running into friends and feeling phony as hell talking to them with a forced smile.
But I can count those moments on one hand (okay maybe two hands? three? how many fingers on a hand?). More than anything, these twelve weeks have been magical. Our son is joy and Light and love and puts everything else in perspective. He separated from me when he left my body. But in the intimacy of the past three months, I can’t tell where my body ends and his begins. He is so peaceful and so happy. A call to presence and serenity. Our love for him feels like the most natural, necessary, vulnerable thing we will ever do.
Beyond the magic of becoming a mother, I’ve fallen in love with Jake all over again as I watch him thrive as a parent. It’s challenging to re-write the relationship ten years in, but I’m so grateful to figure it out together. And I’m so grateful that the doubts that filled us before August’s arrival (Are we ready? Do we have enough “figured out”? Are WE solid enough to bring life into this world?) vanished with his first breath.
I don’t mean to say it’s been easy, or that anyone’s experience is entirely within their control. So many factors— our birth, our work circumstances, our community— have made the transition smooth. But practically, these twelve weeks have been better than I thought they would be because of a few choices that we made and a few fortunate circumstances. If I were giving advice to someone who is pregnant or the partner of a pregnant person, here is what I would tell them:
Prepare for the absolute worst. I don’t mean to sound dire or melodramatic, but I felt terrified about the fourth trimester. I nervously anticipated what was coming— an unparalleled hormonal crash, feeling weak, soft, and squishy in a way I never had before, minimal sleep, a lot of physical pain, learning a lot of new, challenging skills, figuring out a new partnership and parenting with Jake, emotional highs and lows. I knew that one out of every seven women deals with post partum depression or anxiety, and that most women have some level of “baby blues” in the first couple of weeks. I spent time learning about this reality and how bad it could be. We spent time talking about my mental health. I tried my hardest to learn what I could to feel as good as I could afterwards (knowing that a lot of it was luck, but things like spending two hours skin to skin right when August left my body for each of our physical, social, and emotional wellbeings). Anticipate that it will be really hard. And be grateful if it’s not (always).
Lean on community. We have the most incredible village to lean on. Our next door neighbor created a meal train for us scheduled from a week after my due date for three months. It’s still going. Close friends brought us food, acquaintances cooked for us, fellow gym members invited us to pancake Saturday. A woman Jake sells bread to signed up to cook us three meals over the last two weeks. Most deliveries came with half a week’s worth of groceries or enough leftovers to feed us three more times. My sister sent soup from New Jersey. I got so many texts on non meal train nights— “bringing pasta now!” or “cowfish takeout?” I will never be able to express sufficient gratitude for the people who cooked for us and for our friends who set it up. The baby came on his due date, much earlier than I expected, and our close friends rallied to bring extra food a week earlier. It can be hard for me to ask for help, and I cannot recommend enough asking for help with food. Even if you don’t have community where you live, let someone build you a meal train with friends from other cities (door dash! grub hub!). To be nourished and rested was the greatest gift we could ever receive. Can we keep the meal train going until August’s sweet sixteen?
Cook. A lot. In addition to the meal train, I cooked and froze twenty or so meals ahead of time so that we’d have easy, quick dinners and breakfasts when we were low on time and energy. It’s helped tremendously.
See a pelvic floor physical therapist. Even if you “don’t need to.” I started seeing a wonderful PFPT at twenty weeks to help with some pubic symphysis disfunction and round ligament pain. I saw her for the rest of pregnancy, which culminated in an appointment with Jake. She talked us through how he could help me manage pain in an unmedicated vaginal delivery, how to optimize my position if I got an epidural, and how to manage a c-section. She became an invaluable resource. Pregnancy and birth were hard I’m sure they would have been 10 times harder without her. I’ve emailed her over a dozen times post partum with specific healing questions and wanting to know various “when can I?” questions.
Get more breastfeeding help than you think you need. If you choose to breastfeed, expect it to be hard. Figuring out supply, latch, bottles, nipples, flange sizes, positions, tension, unclogging ducts (ice not heat! who knew!) Our birth class had a breastfeeding section. I took a separate breastfeeding online class. I read a breastfeeding book. My doula came over daily. to help me with feeding— learning what a good latch is, how to use the various pumps, how to burp the baby. The public health nurse came over the day after my milk came in to help me figure it out. And ten weeks in when something didn’t feel right, I arranged to meet with an IBCLC lactation consultant for help (paid for by insurance!). I’m an over preparer, and a lot of breastfeeding factors were pure luck (my anatomy and his), but I think that learning and asking for help have made our journey a little easier.
Build an unstoppable team. I was given maternity leave from two of my jobs. My good friends covered my meetings with clients. I had another close friend, Russell, answer all calls from tenants for a few weeks and coordinate with any sub contractors. We asked for a lot of help walking the dog, and close friends incorporated him into their daily adventures.
We asked one of my closest friends to be our doula. She is a labor and delivery nurse in midwifery school who we trust implicitly. She was with us every step of the journey— from our miscarriage to the day we found out we were pregnant again, doing baby appointments throughout the pregnancy (comforting me with at home non stress tests when I was nervous about August’s wellbeing and telling me exactly what position he was ini), giving me homeopathic remedies when August was butt down, facilitating our birth experience, bringing us meals in the hospital, anticipating our needs for the weeks after he was born (asking people to leave my house when I needed it, bringing me matcha, making me pads). She also facilitated conversations between me and Jake about our birth plan, our short term post partum plan, and our long term post partum plan. She took a training on maternal and fetal positioning that (I believe) led to a four hour labor and fifteen minutes of pushing. She was absolutely critical in my loving postpartum. I realize few people have their own Courtney. But how can you ask for help? Can you afford to hire a doula? Or ask a close friend to be you and your partner’s support in your labor space? Can you hire someone to clean your home once a week? Or make a list of things for friends to help out with and post it on your fridge? Can you put a fund for someone to mow your lawn or lactation consultant visits on your registry? Get creative! Loved ones want to help, even if they’re far away.
Get professional help. I gave birth at an awesome hospital that offers five free counseling sessions to postpartum moms. Throughout my fourth trimester, I’ve had so many friends say that they had postpartum depression and didn’t know it at the time. I thought that I was feeling fine, but didn’t my girlfriends as well? I called the hospital and booked an appointment and cried for an hour for no obvious reason. I’m honestly not sure if seeing this particular person helped me, but I like the idea of preparing for your mental and emotional well being preemptively.
Say no. To people wanting to visit, hold your baby, or ask for your energy in any other way if I doesn’t feel good. I tried to be discerning with who came into the sacred space of our home. The best guests washed their hands when they walked in the door and capped their visits at 20 minutes max. The blur of being a new parent is real, even though we were high as kites, managing anything outside of our little family unit drained me dry.
Make a plan that supports you and your partner. Jake and my mental and physical health matter when making parenting decisions. As my friend Scott put it, “people often make decisions that are 2% better for the kid but 25% worse for the parents. That math doesn’t add up!” We have done our best to line up our actions with that value. Of course, our baby’s wellbeing is our priority! And asking— is this a difference that makes a difference? helps us keep perspective. I planned to breastfeed but also was ready for if it didn’t work so our baby could be fed. We chose to introduce a bottle in the first week so that I could have freedom to leave the house without the baby, which has felt critical to my mental health. We’ve figured out how to navigate Jake’s needs (nights away to hunt!) and maintain balance in our home (I sleep downstairs when he gets back ;). When we were changing August’s diaper every feed, I’d feed him and Jake would change him.
I think both of us having realistic expectations around my ability and energy in the first few weeks home was really helpful. We planned on me resting and nursing and Jake doing all of the shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. Every morning he’d bring us coffee in bed (a tradition we’ve kept!) and make a beautiful brunch a few hours later. I’m usually very diligent with laundry, dishes, and clutter, but I blissfully let it all go and Jake carried the team (setting up elaborate pillow arrangements for my comfort with lavender essential oil diffusing and bowls of grapes… I kid you not!).