A different way to look at postpartum challenges

I wake up about every other night to find myself drenched in sweat. I do mean drenched — it’s like I’ve just come in after swimming and haven’t dried off yet. This happens in between another cause of nighttime sleep disturbances: the times every few hours that I rise to feed a tiny baby, and comfort her as she works through figuring out her digestive system post-womb.

During the day, my body leaks and creaks and sags and aches in all sorts of different and unexpected ways, making me feel like a stranger in my own skin. I cry at the smallest of everyday hassles, and feel overwhelming joy and peace alongside unreasonable anxiety at alternating moments. Suffice it to say, life postpartum is strange.

It’s a disorienting experience to encounter so many new physical challenges coupled with less sleep and a contradictory cocktail of hormones. It often feels overwhelming and just too difficult.

Still, I’ve found that two perspectives help me navigate this unique period with a more positive outlook. 

Motherhood changes everything, including your body. I remind myself that I won’t ever look or feel exactly like I did before, and that is not a bad thing. Suddenly, everything that I have and am is not my own in the way it was previously. I’m responsible for the growth and development of someone outside of myself.

I remember crying when I got into the car after taking my firstborn to the doctor. It was just a regular first checkup, and it went well — nothing was wrong with my days-old son. However, the realization that I was now completely responsible for this helpless person hit me. I would have to make decisions for him and about him and make sure he thrived for the next 18 years. And it won’t end there — I’ve seen how much my mother and mother-in-law care about their adult children, their children who don’t live with them or rely on them anymore.

Motherhood doesn’t end. This seismic shift in my life — from only being responsible for myself to being responsible and concerned so wholly for someone else — is reflected in my body. Instead of fighting that fact, I want to accept my new self.

The other perspective that helps me is keeping gratitude foremost rather than annoyance. Instead of wishing my body would hurry up and heal or hurry up and shed weight, I try to embrace the changes and transitions with an attitude of awe and thankfulness.

My pelvic floor isn’t back to normal yet? Ok, but what was it able to do for me? Incredible! Do I have some belly girth and jiggle that won’t hide? And does it prompt my other kids to ask if I’m pregnant again? Instead of cringing and inwardly bemoaning my middle, I can answer confidently, “Oh, no that’s just the leftovers from when my body grew to take care of our last baby! Isn’t it amazing that my body did that?”

These two perspectives help shape my mental narrative as I wade through the murky postpartum waters. Combine those with staying hydrated, leaning into a support system, and choosing rest over activity whenever possible, and I’ve found that it makes recovering from a giant labor of love much easier.

Thank you Jesus for creating me, for the gift of this baby, and for my motherhood. 

Read more:5 Little ways to take care of your postpartum body and soul