Expectations vs. Reality: Surviving the Postpartum Rollercoaster
The highs are high, the lows are ‘dinner-plate-sized-placenta-wound’ low.
It has recently come to my attention that I may have inadvertently terrified some of my pregnant readers with my post about breastfeeding (I’m sorry!!!). You walk a fine line when you’re pregnant - on the one hand, you want to be informed, on the other, you crave the bliss of ignorance (something you can really only take advantage of once). I distinctly remember not wanting to hear any horror stories while I was pregnant - a particularly gruesome birth story exchange at a friend’s baby shower several years prior had been scarring enough. However, I also didn’t want to stick my head in the sand about what the whole experience - birth/postpartum/caring for baby, etc. - would be like. Although everyone’s experience is different, I found it helpful to try and gain some sense of what the spectrum of possible experiences could be. I didn’t want to be one of those new mothers on the internet, crying “why did nobody tell me?!” So in that spirit, I wanted to offer my two cents on the highs and lows of the first hours, weeks and months, particularly where they didn’t exactly align with my expectations. Read on at your peril….
First Hours
High: Oxytocin Overload. My first high is literally a high - the intoxicating rush of love hormones that occurs right after giving birth, when the baby is placed on your chest for that first golden hour. I expected this to feel good - happy the baby had arrived safely, relieved the scary part was over etc. - but I completely underestimated how incredible it turned out to be. The physical sensation of that warm, nuzzle-y little bundle against my skin for the first time is something I’ll never forget.
Low: The Never-Ending Parade of People. Nurses. Doctors. Lactation Consultants. Audiologists. Administrators. Cleaners. Once, that first golden hour was over, the next 48 involved a revolving door of people in and out of the hospital room. Most of it was for our benefit, and they were just doing their jobs, but it’s not exactly relaxing or restful, or conducive to bonding with your brand new baby. Although we were apprehensive about leaving the built-in support system of the hospital behind, we were very eager to get back to the peaceful sanctuary of our own home.
First Days:
High: Contact Naps. Now that my child is a toddler, something I miss dearly is regular contact napping. Similar to that first golden hour in the hospital, the sensation of your newborn babe sleeping soundly against your chest is pretty heavenly. It’s also a great opportunity to slow down, embrace the moment and just be (or, alternatively, scarf a sandwich while trying not to spill crumbs on the baby’s head/have a whisper-fight with your partner about whose turn it is to sterilize the bottles/respond to some long-overdue texts 😅). Although the initial learning curve is steep, I highly recommend figuring out how to use a baby wrap, so you can keep your baby snug as a bug against your skin as you potter around, hands-free.
Low: The Downstairs Situation. Look, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it, if you have a vaginal birth this part is rough. I was relatively lucky and had minimal tearing/stitching to deal with, but it still ranked amongst the worst aspects of postpartum. I can only imagine how the poor C-section girlies cope - respect, comrades. My advice: buy the ice pads, buy the cooling sprays, buy the peri bottle. If you don’t end up needing them - fantastic! - but if you do, it’s helpful to have a complete range of weapons in your arsenal. Finally, for the love of God, take the damn stool softener.
First Weeks:
High: Generous Friends. One of the most unexpected and heart-warming realizations in the days and weeks immediately after giving birth was how blessed we are to have such amazing family and friends. From bouquets of flowers, to care packages of tasty treats, to home-cooked meals dropped off outside our door - no face-to-face interaction required - we were truly touched by people’s generosity. Having been on the receiving end of such kindness, I now make it my business to try and pay it forward and deliver some home-cooked goodness (or a gift voucher for those far away!) to my newly parentified buddies.
Low: Overextending Myself. I significantly underestimated how long the physical recovery from giving birth would take. I’m not talking about “bouncing back” or any of that nonsense, I’m talking purely in terms of feeling some degree of strength or sense of normalcy in my body. In the days after birth, I was eager to get out and get moving - I thought it would be good for me. I was shocked at how breathless walking made me and how weak my core felt, as if my top and bottom halves had been sandwiched together with jelly trifle. It was only months later that I learned about the dinner-plate sized wound the placenta leaves behind when it detaches from your uterus. If I could go back and give myself one piece of advice it would be to embrace rest and prioritize healing during this period, and to not feel one bit guilty about it.
First Months:
High: The Birth of Dada. After the initial topsy-turvy weeks, my husband and I settled into a routine of me taking the night shift and him taking the early morning, to complement our respective night owl and early bird tendencies. Every morning I would wake up to texts from my husband with photos and videos of our son - who wasn’t doing a whole lot at that point, let’s be real - along with a recap of their morning together. He was obsessed. I’m not the first person to say this, but it is absolutely incredible to watch the person you love fall in love. To see them comfort and gently care for the tiny human you made together. To see a whole new aspect of their personality blossom. 10/10 would recommend.
Low: Chronic Sleep Deprivation. This one may seem fairly obvious, but I don’t think I truly grasped the effects of long term sleep deprivation until I experienced it for myself. I expected to be very tired in the initial weeks of course, but beyond that I had no idea. I’m honestly glad I didn’t have a crystal ball to see how long the sleepless nights would persist (spoiler alert: my son started sleeping through the night just a couple of weeks ago at 16 months). The hope kept me going - if I had known just how long it was going to last, I would have cracked. Chronic tiredness has a lot in common with depression - low mood, irritability, lack of motivation, difficulty finding joy in everyday life. And it’s only once you’re out the other side that you realize the extent of its effects. Disclaimer: Every child is different. I pray my next one’s a sleeper.
First Year:
Low: Milestone Panic. Once the initial relief at birthing a physically healthy baby wore off (I know how lucky I am, I promise), the next source of panic set in - freaking out about every anticipated developmental milestone. Is he responding to sounds? Is he visually tracking objects? When will he lift his head during tummy time? Shouldn’t he be smiling by now? Etc. Etc. Etc. I have fallen down rabbit holes of research on rare developmental disorders and googled “early signs of autism” more times than I care to admit. Thankfully this neuroticism began to taper off with time and the realization that all children develop at their own pace.
High: The Deepest Love You’ve Ever Felt in Your Life. You have a pretty strong suspicion that you’re going to love your child, but I don’t think anyone can truly comprehend what this particular love feels like until they experience it for themselves. I’m so genuinely excited for anyone pregnant or planning to have a baby - just think, the person (and possibly people) you are going to love the most in your entire life hasn’t even been born yet. I reflected on that a lot while I was pregnant and found it incredibly profound - to know that my most life-changing love was still ahead of me. Like the grinch, my heart grew three sizes on the day my son was born. And it’s still growing. ❤️




Our bodies are truly amazing!!! The older I get, the more and more I revere childbirth. ‘Dinner-plate-sized-placenta-wound’ is really an impossible combination of words to forget 🥲