New Parents: Labor & Delivery is Not Motherhood

Lucy and I spent the month of November in Texas with my parents to make the final days of Liam’s military deployment go by faster. Family and friends from across Texas traveled to see us and meet Lucy. We were spoiled 100% of the days.

One of those days, my mom asked me, “Where are your bracelets?” I’ve been wearing three gold and silver bracelets since 2009. My mom has matching versions of two of the bracelets. I’d only ever taken them off when absolutely required, and I’d promptly put them back on. I responded to Mom’s question with a quick lie about “taking them off to clean them and forgetting to put them back on before Lucy and I flew to Texas.” Then about an hour later, after processing my lie, I confessed that I hadn’t worn them since June 29th, the day I arrived at the hospital in labor with Lucy.

The truth was, the bracelets were still in the bag I’d taken to the hospital, in the pocket Liam had put them in when the labor and delivery nurse requested I remove them. I’d left the bracelets in that pocket for nearly five months. I knew they were there. Every time my wrist felt naked, I’d think, “I need to get my bracelets and put them back on.” Then I’d think about Lucy’s birth and quickly distract myself with something else. I never made it to the bag to get the bracelets.

What I felt, but hadn’t really processed until my mom asked about the bracelets, was that those three small, precious metal chains reminded me of 42 hours of labor followed by a long, traumatic C section. I didn’t blame the bracelets, I blamed the lack of bracelets. The one time I took the bracelets off for more than a couple of hours led to the two hardest days of my life thus far. It was easier to be mad at a silly hospital “no jewelry” policy than to be mad about all the other parts of Lucy’s birth I didn’t understand.

If you’re giving birth soon, or if you’ve recently given birth, I’m writing to tell you something that took me about five months to figure out. Labor and delivery is NOT motherhood. It’s a stage of motherhood, and you get to decide if it’s a defining one.

You mamas who gave birth at home squatting in an inflatable pool like the absolute Amazons that you are, may consider labor and delivery the most important stage of your motherhood experience. You probably have a very vivid memory of your body’s strength and miraculous endurance. You should be so proud of that and you should write 100 blog posts about it because goddamn. You’re incredible. But those of us who had an experience we’d rather forget, need to know that we’re incredible, too. The end result was the same. We created life.

The best part about women who have had a traumatic birth experience is that they won’t tell you about it because they don’t want to relive it and they don’t want to scare any future parents. EVERY birth story is different. Even parents with multiple kids have wildly different birth experiences per kid. So just because one birth experience is terrible, doesn’t mean yours will be. But the worst part about women who have had traumatic birth experiences is that they won’t tell you about it, so when you go through it yourself, it can feel really really lonely.

But like Brene Brown has told us over and over again, connection starts with vulnerability and as soon as I was brave enough to say, “Lucy’s birth sucked. She came out fine and incredibly healthy, and I’m beyond grateful for that, but I had an awful experience that I’m still working through mentally,” other women started sharing their stories with me. All of a sudden I felt less weak, less angry, and less alone. Most importantly though, I realized that labor and delivery was just one stage of my motherhood experience. It didn’t set the stage. I was still the strong, powerful female figure I wanted to be for Lucy, even if her birth made me feel the opposite.

I’m not going to detail out Lucy’s birth for you here. Partly because I don’t want to scare anyone and partly because I really hate conjuring up the memory. I’m choosing to remember the part where I held her for the first time, and I’m choosing to forget that it was hours after she was born and my arms were numb. I will, however, commiserate with anyone who wants to swap stories one-on-one and I will remind them (because it helps me remind myself) that a birth story is just that — a story. And a story only has the power that the storyteller grants it.

When Liam returned home from his deployment in mid-December, I told him about the bracelet conversation with Mom. The next day while I was feeding Lucy he quietly fetched the bracelets out of the hospital bag and put them on my nightstand. That night I slowly put them back on and noted that they looked the exact same on my wrist as they looked before June 29th.

New Parents: Advice for Partners & Spouses

There was a very specific moment that made me decide to see a psychologist postpartum.

It wasn’t while laying in the fetal position (yes, I realize the irony) on the living room floor, even though that happened. It wasn’t when Lucy and I were pacing up and down the hallway at 2am crying hysterically at each other, even though that happened. It wasn’t when someone asked “Don’t you just love every minute?” And I thought, I kind of don’t love any minutes. Even though that happened.

I decided to see a psychologist when my husband said to me, “I’m worried about you. I love this baby, but I loved you first. You will always come first and I need you to care more about yourself right now. I can handle taking care of our daughter while you do that.”

*Cue the flight attendants “put your mask on first” speech.

In my first session with the psychologist, they asked how things were going with my spouse and how our new roles as co-parents were fitting. I told him the only decision in my life I wasn’t currently questioning was whether a better partner existed. I told him my spouse was the one who encouraged me to make this appointment.

He said bluntly, “Wow. That’s not usually what I hear in here. Usually that’s the biggest problem new moms face, communicating with their spouse. We usually spend the whole first session talking about that.”

Look at me, I thought, stumping the therapist.

I felt simultaneously proud for marrying Liam and awful for being depressed while having such a phenomenal partner. But depression doesn’t ask you all the things you’re grateful for before it magnifies everything going wrong.

The next feeling I had was extreme sadness for all the new moms this psychologist talked to who had seemingly shitty partners; or maybe just overwhelmed and unprepared partners; or maybe just partners doing their best but it wasn’t quite enough.

So while I’d love to say this post is just a big ol’ brag on my husband, it’s also to provide advice to partners of new moms. Because you, the partners, can make not just a big difference but THE big difference postpartum.

Think ahead.
I used to plan events for thousands of people. Attention to detail and being overly prepared for every possible scenario was my job. Then I had a baby and it felt like I couldn’t think past the next five minutes, the next feeding or the next diaper change. I would add “the next nap,” but Lucy doesn’t have many of those. Not only was it really hard for me to think ahead, but I also beat myself up daily for the fact that I couldn’t. Luckily, Liam recognized this and would think ahead for me. He’d pay attention to how many swaddles were clean, if we were running low on diapers, if I needed a refill soon of my post-surgery medication. When he saw I wasn’t eating enough he stocked up on healthy snacks from Costco and put them in a cabinet he moved right next to where I often fed Lucy so I could grab them easily. He was figuring out dinner before I remembered to ask what we should do for dinner.

Remind them what their body has done.
Postpartum, it’s hard to not think about how beat up your body is. The pain and fatigue remind you every second. Combine that with entering the 10th month of your clothes not fitting how they used to and you get a mom who is actively avoiding getting dressed and mirrors. Next time a new mom tells you they feel out of shape, remind them that their body just went through the hardest, most miraculous, most impressive process it will ever go through. Remind her that she CREATED A HUMAN, like, FROM SCRATCH. And because of that it’s the most incredible, beautiful body you’ve ever seen. We celebrate women who “bounce back” more than we should - let’s celebrate the fact that they spent nine months creating life and that’s a way bigger deal.

Remember this is a 60/60 commitment no matter who has the “professional” job.
When Liam and I went to pre-marital counseling with the pastor who would marry us, he gave us a really great piece of advice that he said had a huge impact on his own marriage. He said: “Don’t look at marriage as a 50/50 equal partnership. Instead, look at it as 60/60. If you’re both trying to give MORE than your fair share to the relationship every day then you’ll always have an abundance of support and commitment.” If you’re not already doing this, you better figure it out postpartum because no matter who is working the traditional job this baby is equally BOTH of your jobs. Even if one of you plans to stay at home. The parent who stays at home doesn’t get to clock in and out at 8am and 5pm, so neither does the working-outside-the-home parent. If you’re going to keep score, then technically the non-birthing parent should do their day job AND care for the baby for 9 months to even things up. :)

Make sure they talk to someone other than just you.
Even if you’re lucky to have a relationship like I do where you share nearly everything in your head, a new mom will still need someone else to talk to postpartum. Not because their partner isn’t understanding or supportive enough, but because the irrational mom guilt prevents us from sharing some of the thoughts which eat us alive. I can’t recommend an objective third-party like a psychologist enough. I honestly believe it should be required/included to see one for every new mom postpartum. Even if they just use it as a good 45 minute dedicated cry session like I did. It feels good and professionals can handle the weight of your tears and your fears when you don’t want to add them your partner’s barbell. (That analogy is for you, Liam.)

Allow them to say, “This sucks.”
As a new mom it feels incredible selfish and ungrateful to say, “This really sucks.” But it does sometimes - much like many other paths we choose in life. Just because we chose it doesn’t mean it’s enjoyable 100% of the time. Liam was really good about buffering for me when someone would ask “Are you just loving the baby snuggles?” He’d chime in with a snarky reply like, “During the 10 minutes a day she’s not crying? Yes, absolutely.” I was always grateful because it felt like he could joke about that without judgement easier than I could. He gave me permission to tell him how much things suck sometimes, and never reminded me that I “Chose this” or that “This is just what being a mom is.” Another coping mechanism he started was coming up with hilarious nicknames for our baby to get out our frustration. For her first six weeks, Lucy was often referred to as Lucyfer, Velucyraptor, Big Dumb Baby, Cute Little Idiot, Angry Elf, and Gremlin. We treated her with love and even said these names with affection, but it always made us laugh to have an inside joke we could tell her about when she was 18.

Take candid photos and videos.
New moms tend to be the ones behind the camera, or the ones avoiding the camera. Capture photos and videos of them that they’ll cherish some day, even if they tell you “I look awful" in the moment. Also you insisting on capturing photo/video silently signals to them that you never believe they could look awful.

Be the tie breaker between expectations and reality.
Whether it’s breast-fed versus formula-fed or scheduled naps versus sleeping for survival, be the tie breaker between what the mom feels like she should do and what’s best for her sanity. Liam never pressured me to figure out breastfeeding or to sleep train but he did reassure me that he supported every decision I made, unless it was a masochistic one. If he saw me sacrificing my own sanity he’d step in and say, “Hey, Lucy’s college applications won’t ask if she was breastfed or formula-fed so just do what’s best for you.”

I hope this is more helpful than preachy. Liam and I still struggle with a lot of things as new parents but we never argued with each other about roles, responsibilities, or support. And I wish that for more new parents.

New Parents: Find Beauty in the Boredom

Every new mom is laughing maniacally at this post title, internally screaming, “BOREDOM?! HOW COULD I POSSIBLY BE BORED? I’D LOVE TO BE BORED!” 

Stick with me. 

Boredom is defined as:
“Feeling weary because one is unoccupied or lacks interest in one's current activity.”

I don’t mean boredom as in nothing to do. I mean boredom as in your baby hates napping (they should be friends with my baby) and you’ve been watching them roll around on a mat for nearly four hours today. As a workaholic who, since I was 15, has always had a job and since I was 22 has always worked at least 50 hours a week, I began to feel so unproductive. I’ve kept a helpless human alive for nearly four months but somehow was telling myself I wasn’t doing enough “productive things” during the day. 

But I didn’t really have a solution, it was near impossible to get on my laptop while she was awake and I couldn’t start a new Pinterest-worthy hobby with 15 minute windows. When she did nap, I wanted to nap, too, or shower, or mow the lawn or do the laundry or EAT occasionally. So I did what we all do when we can’t find a solution - try to forget the problem by scrolling through Netflix and Instagram. 

Then one day, Lucy was laying on my bed and I had opened the curtains and she was moving her hands in the air as if playing with a stream of water. I looked more closely and realized that the rising sun had sent a beam of light right over her and she was running her hands through it. I’ll never forget that moment. Teary eyed, I watched her, thinking how simple and how magical that moment was. She was enthralled by sunlight. 

The next day, I was watching Shameless on Netflix (basically Baby Einstein, right?) and she was sitting in her bouncer chair and I noticed her staring at her fist, as if it was staring back. She moved it slightly right and slightly left, following it with her eyes, realizing that this pesky appendage that often got in her way was attached to HER body. I could see her brain making the connection and her growing excitement at realizing the possibilities. “So you’re saying, if this is attached to me, then I can control it and I can put it in my mouth whenever I want?!”

Those two small events made me realize a few pretty big things:

She’s developing so fast at this age and I’m BEYOND lucky to be home and take time off from my business to watch it. I worked my butt off during pregnancy and my husband continues to work his butt off so that I can have this time with her, it’s not unproductive or less valuable time. 

If every time I get the urge to turn on the TV or open a social media app on my phone, I tell myself to wait just ten more minutes, the day ends up going by quicker because I’m not missing a single adorable thing she’s doing and learning. 

After watching her experience sunlight, I started looking at sunlight differently. I’m appreciating a lot of small things after watching this baby awestruck by them. My favorite thing this week is that any fabric she comes into contact with she rubs over and over again with her finger tips to feel the texture. 

Lastly, watching her do new things makes me grab my phone and FaceTime a family member or friend to show them. I realized how much more these calls have helped me with the loneliness and boredom than watching everyone’s lives on social media or reality TV ever could. 

Stay bored, friends. Find the beauty in the boredom. 

New Moms: Do Things Over & Over Again Until You Feel Crazy

(This is Part 2 of what I’m learning as a new mom. You can check out Part 1 here.)

My father in law joked, “What’s that saying? Madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?” Welp, I’m learning madness is a core competency of parenting. 

In the early days of mom-ing I would lament over every thing she refused. 

“She doesn’t like that swaddle.”
“She hates the swing, why did we get it.”
“She’s never going to like the baby carrier.”

Until the random day she’d do a complete 180 on whatever she refused before. 

The swaddle she hated for the first couple weeks became her favorite for almost two months. 
The swing we couldn’t put her in for a week, she still naps in every day (blah blah blah sleep training, I’m single parenting over here while my husband’s deployed I do what I must.)
The baby carriers, of which I bought three different kinds, she will sleep like a baby in under the right circumstances. 

My mom gave me the mantra I’ve lived off of since Lucy’s first month: “She doesn’t know what she wants any better than you do, you’ll figure it out together.”

We go for an hour walk every morning with our dog, mainly because it keeps our endless-energy dog sane and I get a chance to listen to my audiobooks. I also firmly believe the day we stop walking the dog will be the day she starts resenting Lucy. Right now, Lucy sleeps almost the entire walk. It took us nearly three months to get to that point - we iterated on everything from how to dress her for walks, blanket or no blanket, fan or no fan, noise machine or no noise machine, sun shade or no sun shade, sidewalk or street. I’ve been doing marketing for 12 years and I’ve never split tested as much as I have with this baby. 

What I’ve learned, that I didn’t read in any baby books, is that babies are finicky, ADHD little creatures that change their mind by the minute. Wouldn’t you if you were literally encountering EVERYTHING for the first time? If you had to choose between books or teething toys or walks or naps or the boob or watching the dog’s tail wag or playing with sunlight in your hands in this brand new world you’ve been dumped (or in Lucy’s case surgically removed) into? I have a hard time finishing a 60 second video on instagram, and I expect this baby to make up her mind about what she likes in her first month of life? 

At first, Lucy’s change of heart on nearly everything all the time made me so frustrated. I wanted walks to put her to sleep every time or I wanted her to giggle at the Roku screensaver every time, but alas, her synapses are changing faster than her diapers. When I started looking at this as a pretty amazing thing, I started giving her (a little) more grace. I began noticing how her development was affecting her changes in preferences and it makes everything a little more magical. It also helped me to not write things off quickly, just because she won’t let you put that drool bib on her today doesn’t mean tomorrow she won’t wear it and spew on it like its her proudest accomplishment. 

A very frustrating thing about babies is they are constantly changing their mind. A very wonderful thing about babies is that they are constantly changing their mind.  No matter how futile an effort may seem, if it’s important to you, or good for your baby, keep at it. One day they’ll surprise you. 

New Moms: Stop Writing Everyone Else’s Breastfeeding Story in Your Head

One of the best pieces of advice I received while pregnant and asking around about baby books was essentially:

“Don’t read too many. They will make you go crazy with comparison. Instead of living in the moment and learning your unique kid, you’ll live in the “should” and stress about the differences between your baby and this non-existent dream child portrayed in the books.”

I noticed that with the few books I did read, each example they gave highlighted a different baby. Not even the authors could find one baby who checked all their boxes.

So I ran with that advice - any excuse for this fiction lover to avoid reading non-fiction books (and the worst kind of non-fiction, “advice” non-fiction).

Three months into having this adorable and demanding cherub, there are a few things that would have been helpful to me to read during pregnancy. I ended up learning these things through painful practice or word of mouth. So this is my way of paying it forward, in the form of something much shorter than a nonfiction book. 

There will be no advice on sleep schedules, pacifiers or nutrition in here - I’m trying to be helpful not controversial. Happy to share my thoughts on those privately but I also believe you can only figure out some things on your own. You have to get comfortable making unilateral decisions for your kid that no one else has to agree with. 

So here we go, first:

Don’t Write Other Moms’ Breastfeeding Stories in Your Head

I struggled big time with breastfeeding. I was desperate to understand why, despite having a good milk supply, I couldn’t push through the pain. I’ll never forget the day my baby started choking on my letdown and her mouth was full of blood from my massacred nipples.

“Just keep at it!” People would say. After six weeks of nothing changing I cried to my husband, “Am I the ONLY weakling mom who can’t push through bloody, oozing nipples? Everyone else really just got okay with crying every time they fed their baby?” I couldn’t even wrap a towel around my chest without wincing. I started to believe I was just weaker than every other breastfeeding mom I knew. That’s a bleak mindset, but I accepted it and reached out to those moms for motivation, to try to understand how and why they were so much stronger than me. 

What I found instead was that nearly every mom I know that breastfed struggled IMMENSELY with something and had (or still has) a significant amount of mom guilt about it. 

One who is successfully breastfeeding her twins now, was unable to breastfeed her previous two children. Before I knew that, the story I had told myself was: She breastfed four babies easily so why can’t I?

Another mom got a tongue tie release procedure done in the first week of her baby’s life and breastfeeding was a breeze after that, but only after that. Not knowing about the procedure, the story I had told myself was: Her nipples were only sore for a week, why are mine this bad after a month? My body must be weaker. 

Another mom I thought was breastfeeding easily had to supplement with formula starting at two months due to supply issues. Assuming she exclusively breastfed, the story I had told myself was: Her baby sleeps better than mine because she breastfeeds 24/7 I need to do that, too. 

Another mom had no supply or pain issues but just hated breastfeeding. She wanted to know exactly how much food her baby was getting, she dreaded breastfeeding in public and she didn’t want to wear bras with a stupid little clasp anymore. Assuming she was living in breastfeeding bliss, the story I had told myself was, She’s doing everything right, she must love that bonding time with her baby.

What am I getting at? When we put pressure on ourselves to be an effortlessly natural new mom we create these stories in our head of all these other moms we need to keep up with. 1) The only person you need to keep up with is your baby. 2) The most natural part of being a new mom is the struggle.

Here’s my story: Breastfeeding was so painful I had to stop by week three and pump/bottle feed to try to let my nipples heal. When they didn’t heal, I pushed through the pain to breastfeed just at night and bottle feed during the day. Our baby rarely slept and I was convinced it was because I was failing at my duty to feed and console her. I finally got a pediatric dentist consult after 6 weeks to find that Lucy had a significant tongue and lip tie which is why her gums/hard palate were relentless on my nipples and preventing her from latching properly. After 8 weeks, three sessions with a lactation consultant and the tongue/lip tie release procedure, we were able to breastfeed 24/7. Hooray! Right? Well, kinda. I had been pumping too much so now my letdown fire hosed her for weeks until my supply regulated. Once it did regulate, she started refusing bottles and pacifiers she’d taken since her second week of life. She’s still refusing bottles, so that’ll be the next hill to climb. Just because I can finally breastfeed comfortably in public with no pain and no shame doesn’t mean we’ve got it all figured out. 

I’m learning that “pushing through” breastfeeding usually involves way more than just a mindset change, sometimes it’s a dental procedure, your baby growing a little, your body healing a little, etc. etc. None of which are entirely in your control, so quit beating yourself up like they are. It’s also okay to pick your battles and say “F*ck this” and switch to bottles and formula so you can focus your energy elsewhere. Remember: your kid will never have to put on their resume how they were fed as a baby.

Other moms may not share every detail of what “pushing through” looked like for them - so don’t fill in the blanks on your own. Instead, share your unfiltered journey next time a new mom asks. Or subtly write a blog post they can read on their own time…