6 months a mother
the expected, unexpected, pleasant, unpleasant
Finn had his half birthday earlier this month, which means I had MY half birthday 🤭.
(No, but really, isn’t a birthday–or any of its fractional variations–equally a celebration of the party that gave birth?? Get your mom a gift on your birthday.)
New motherhood has been an exercise in appreciating the dichotomy of being human. As I was reflecting on what to share, I realized, in the most Heather fashion, a kitschy chart would do better than words.
Behold…
Here’s some more detail on select data points.
Expectedly pleasant: postpartum running
I started running hill intervals 3 weeks postpartum, and did my first continuous 1-hour run 4 weeks postpartum.
I wouldn’t encourage anyone to chase my timeline. By a mixture of luck, genetics, and fitness, I had a miraculously undestructive birth that left me with nearly zero blood-loss, no stitches, no medication. I’m beyond grateful. Birth was still intense as hell though. I wrote about it here.
Running felt so incredibly freeing.
During pregnancy, I slogged through runs with a 40 lbs weight vest, sky high resting heart rate, increased internal temperature, and loosey goosey joints.
Postpartum, with increased blood volume, reduced weight, and a lower heart rate, you’re biologically doping.
I cried on my first run. I was overcome with so much joy. I’d been waiting for this moment for over 40 weeks. I felt like a little kid with bare feet and a juicebox.
Here are the veggies:
Your center of gravity shifts backwards compared to pregnancy and recalibrating the biomechanics feels a bit awkward at first.
HEAVY BOOBS wtf. I’ve never needed a specialized sports bra because I’m in the itty bitty titty committee. With milk, you have an extra two pounds of extremely jiggly weight on your chest.
Expectedly unpleasant: postpartum depression
I knew this was something that I would face (for reasons too personal to share). I worked with a psychiatrist and therapist months before to ramp up on medication before birth, and establish a support system.
Nothing can prepare you for the hormonal flood.
Since Finn was born in the dead of winter, the nights were long and started early. As soon as the sun started setting around 4 PM, I felt a flood of sadness. I was rotating shifts with my mom and Keegan. The ones I took solo after sunset were terrible. Aimless and lonely. I wanted to do things that felt stimulating and fun, but nothing did.
It was like I lost the ability to feel joy.
Something that would really help is texting my friends.
Most people are too polite to bother someone who just gave birth. I’ll be honest, it did feel like a burden to respond to messages from those I’m not particularly close to. But for those people in my sacred inner circle, asynchronous connection felt like a gift. It would bring me so much relief, that I would save messages for responding until after sunset. I’d space out my responses so I could feel little blips of hope throughout the night.
Reading that back now, it’s sad.
If someone close to you just gave birth, send them a voice note, ask them about details of their life, tell them a story from your life.
Unexpectedly unpleasant: phone addiction
I knew postpartum would be exhausting. I knew my emotions would be all over the place. I knew I’d feel both lonely and smothered.
I did not expect how intellectually understimulating it’d be.
And with that, I did not expect my phone to be my main source of non-baby dopamine.
Taking care of a newborn is like taking care of an extremely delicate piece of cardboard. It’s not really rewarding because your baby is not really interactive. Even when you’re taking care of baby, you’re bored. When baby is sleeping, you crave stimulation but you’re too tired to get it. And even if you’re surprisingly alert, the motivation to do something for yourself is nonexistent. It’s folding laundry or nothing.
I noticed myself impulsively picking up my phone and cycling through the same 3 applications, spending 30 seconds on each one, ad nauseum. 6 months in, I’m still more addicted to my phone than I’ve ever been. I just downloaded ScreenZen to take control of my dopamine.
Unexpectedly pleasant: bringing family together
No one has a perfect relationship with their parents, or any of their family members, at that.
As soon as Finn came earthside, my immediate family rushed to help. I had no choice but to accept all the help I could get. The selfless motivation to collectively care for a new human is evolutionary. Personal differences are less consequential. Value clashes get filtered through a mutual understanding that it all comes from a place of deep love for the child, not ego–if you’re lucky.
I didn’t realize I had that luck until Finn arrived.
Watching Keegan bond with my mom and dad has been unexpectedly touching. He’s learned some things about their childhood that I never knew. Keegan’s brother Ryan, and his wife Annie, came to visit. They flew all the way from Hawaii just to see Finn for 24 hours. Spending time with equi-generational family members feels especially precious during life transitions. Keegan’s parents drive up from South Bay weekly to feed us, do our laundry, and change Finn’s diapers.
I have a new relationship with my own parents. I’m having trouble putting words to it.
I think, I feel how proud they are of me.
I’ve subconsciously chased their approval my whole life, long after they stopped putting pressure on me…all my achievements on paper, justifying my life choices, reassuring them I’m doing well (even if I’m not). The pride I feel from them now is different from when I graduated Yale or bought a house. It’s this visceral, ego-free, unconditional warmth.
Without words, I know they see my strength. They trust me.
