Have you ever noticed that bloggers and more broadly influencers, completely gloss over the postpartum recovery after content source influx childbirth? Pregnancies seemingly end with an ethereal photo of a mommy gazing lovingly down into a bassinet.
Record scratch.
I’m here to share my experience in the fourth trimester, that of postpartum recovery. In the next six weeks, I am going to report on how I am feeling, unfiltered. No perfect newborn and mommy photos here and not only because I keep my kids’ faces offline. Also because it is not reality.
Before I jump into my most recent pregnancy recovery experience, a primer on my first from 2020. I am fairly certain I was the last L&D patient to give birth sans mask and with her partner in the room in Washington DC. Maybe not literally, but that should give you an idea of what the state of the world was when we emerged from the hospital as a family of three.
After a 26 hour labor and three hours of pushing out an eight pound, six ounce bundle of joy (completely worth it, by the way), I was certain that I would never feel like myself again. I was certain that I would never run again; I could hardly stand up from the bed on my own. I was certain that I would never be able to move in the ways I had prior to childbirth. Not to scare anyone away from having a child but nobody shared with me how or what I might be feeling – mentally or physically, the latter which took a bigger toll on me – on the other side, not friends nor family.
This will sound shallow but the first time I took a shower post birth and caught a glance at myself in the mirror, I was traumatized by my appearance. I had to remind myself that what I physically did was miraculous and that I needed to give myself grace, and not feel shameful. Further throwing a wrench in my physical being, while I gave birth on a Tuesday morning, I was not able to pass solids until the following Friday and only with help from Miralax. I don’t think the social isolation helped much either with my mental state, although I acknowledge it was necessary to keep my family and me safe.
This is not a belated call for sympathy; rather this is to say that whatever you are feeling as a first time mom in the fourth trimester is normal. It is just in certain people’s best interest not to share the truth in lieu of projecting an “aspirational” airbrushed image of what they think their online community wants to see. And that it is entirely bullshit. How dare anyone try to project an inaccurate image for the rest of us, many of whom are struggling.
Over the course of the following six weeks, I came around to feeling like myself, albeit a hermit-survival-mom version. This culminated with my first run since the summer before, timed precisely on my first Mother’s Day.
I am not here to give you either son’s birth story. The internet does not need another one of those floating around. However, flash forward to 2024, I will say that in addition to a shorter labor (18.5 hours) and shorter time pushing (34 minutes, I manifested that), the recovery was easier the second time around. My body knew what to do and my mind knew what to expect, and the combination was powerful.
For awhile I claimed that my labor, delivery, and recovery experience of my first born secured him only child status. I am so glad that I didn’t let the process of and the healing during the fourth trimester following my first, deter me from having a second born and therefore completing our family.