Why didn't anyone talk about this?
The best advice (I never heard) that I can give you for the first few months of motherhood.
With 12 months of motherhood under my belt, I’m finally feeling grounded in my new role. But those first couple months, man.
I keep coming back to them.
From navigating the spiritual transformations to the best swaddles for your newborn- here’s the best advice I can give you for those early days that I didn’t hear anyone else talking about before I became a mom:
I’ll ease you in.
The Overyhyped Postpartum Rolling Cart
You reaaaallly don’t need to buy and stock a rolling cart the way that mom influencers would lead you to believe. I live in a 1,200 square foot house and was using probably 600 square feet of it during the first couple weeks postpartum. Though I’m a pretty low-maintenance gal who often says things like “Ehh we don’t need that, we’ll be fine”, I was happily influenced to pursue a certain postpartum-themed organization that had been flooding my instagram algorithm in recent weeks. I prepared a cute bin in my living room stocked full of diapers, burp cloths, clothes, medicine, wipes, etc. for essentially anything Harry could possibly need in a moment’s notice. Ask me how many times I used it…. I dare you.
Here’s the thing: If you need a diaper, ask your partner to get it for you. Better yet, hand the baby to your partner and ask him to go to the nursery to change it for you. If your living space is anything like ours, the 9-second walk between my bedroom, the den couch, and the nursery didn’t warrant a doomsday prepper-approach to caring for a newborn.
Besides, while he’s gone changing the baby’s diaper, you can use that 3 minutes to come back to your body, gently stretch your neck from left to right, and take a deep breath. And at the risk of losing you to a reference to “taking a deep breath” too early on in this newsletter, let me just say I was absolutely taken aback by how rare it was for me to have the freedom for such frivolous acts of self care in the first week of Harry’s life. So yeah…. Say bye bye to the Amazon rolling cart and hello to 5 seconds of freedom! #deinfluencingyou #takewhatyoucanget
Building Your Baby’s Wardrobe
Coming for the influencers again - oopsie! You don’t need to watch YouTube videos telling you exactly how many rompers, onesies, burp cloths, socks, and pajamas you ReAlLY need as a new mom. Okay, okay, I know, they’re fun to watch! I watched like 27 so trust me, this isn’t coming from a moral high ground.
Here’s the thing: buy *some* and go from there. Register for some organic cotton onesies and pajamas and some of those classic muslin burp cloths. You have no idea what size your baby will be and how fast they’ll grow. Some babies fit into size 3-6M at just a few weeks old and some babies (like my sweet lil’ Harry!) wear size 0-3M until they’re 4+ months old. Also, you will most likely receive cute (or hideous - could go either way) outfits from well-meaning friends and family that will help you have a complete wardrobe for the first couple months. Most likely, your baby will have outgrown the first round of baby clothes by 2-3 months old, so you and your partner will have a better understanding of what styles and brands you like best for your next little haul of baby clothes. Craving an influencing moment now that we’re talking about America’s favorite word.. ~~~sHoPpInG~~~?!?! Twist my arm. Here’s my lightning round best advice for baby clothes:
Don’t waste your time with buttons and snaps with newborn clothes. Zippers. Only. NO - I hear you….. “buuuut Noni have you seen this chic brand of handmade linen baby clothes from Portugal?!” Do they have buttons? Do they seriously expect you to button 12 buttons after sleeping for 2 hours with breast milk dripping down your chest and the urge to pee that you’ve been ignoring for 3 hours? Absolutely not. I’ll be the canary in the coal mine to claim that button/snap onesies are a mental health risk to parents. There, I said it!
Okay wait I was about to move on to my next point but let me just say this if you still aren’t convinced: If you have the patience to button all 12 buttons despite the odds, kudos to you. But do you expect your husband to button all 12 buttons? Ha! John had about a 2% full-button success rate when Harry was a newborn. Maybe y’all are chill but my postpartum brain definitely got spiteful when I saw my baby 40% buttoned up upon emerging from the nursery with his dad. So basically I’m now realizing that baby clothes with buttons risk both your mental health and your marriage. “Zippers. Cheaper than divorce.”
Shop second hand for baby clothes. In case you haven’t heard, the fashion industry is incredibly polluting. Think about how wasteful the baby clothes industry is! Y’all, babies grow fast. Some people buy entire wardrobes for size 0-6M, only to have zero clothes that fit their baby come 4 months postpartum. Search for local children’s resale stores, pop-up clothing sales, or better yet - host a clothing trade with fellow moms in your area! You can also find great secondhand options online. My favorite is Noihsaf.
In no particular order, my favorite brands for baby clothes are Kyte, Kate Quinn, Primary, Woolino, Kissy Kissy (runs small), Bobo Choses, Beaufort Bonnet, Emile & Ida, and Oso & Me.
As for swaddles, I’m all for keeping it simple. There are loads of swaddles on the market, each coming with its own instagram algorithm swearing *this* swaddle will be the one to make your baby sleep longer and safer. Give me a break. Get a couple and go from there. We loved the idea of doing the OG blanket swaddle but soon realized that we didn’t have the patience to learn the perfect swaddle technique to keep Harry snug the same way our postpartum nurses did in the blink of an eye. We tried Velcro swaddles, wrap swaddles, blanket swaddles, and finally landed on the most simple, minimalist design — the Woombie — put ‘em in, zip it up. Done. When you’re running on fumes, it’s pitch black, and your sweet angel is crying, you’re going to do what’s easiest.
Vibes
Vibes? Da heck? Hear me out. It turns out that 3+ weeks straight of sleep deprivation, shifting hormones, and endless worry can do some funky things to your nervous system. For me, this manifested into extreme sensitivity to my environment. I’ve always been particular about sound, light, and my overall aesthetic environment, but it went into overdrive during the early postpartum days. The strangest part about this for me was that I never heard a single person talk about this before Harry was born. I absolutely could not handle additional noise, light, or general stimulation on top of the endless demands of keeping both my baby and me fed & healthy. I put blankets over every lamp before turning it on, talked in a whisper even when I didn’t need to, and wanted to crawl out of my skin when I heard cacophonous noises like someone unloading the dishwasher. The whiplash transition from childbirth into postpartum was jarring and dare I say…. A smidge traumatic? I needed soft edges and quiet to help my body feel safe again. Natural light during the day and soft, warm light at night was the name of the game for us to help Harry (and his mom) adjust to life out of the womb. So here’s what I would recommend if you’re anything like me in the vibe and nerve-fried department:
Get a couple of portable, touch-activated warm lights to keep in the nursery and your bedroom for nighttime feedings and diaper changes. Lamps and overhead lights are just too much for these pitch-black moments seeped in exhaustion. These cheap ones from Amazon worked great for us. You could also do something like this if you wanted it to fit with the interior decor of your home.
Stay warm, especially if you’re postpartum during cold winter months. Keep your socks on, drink warm tea, eat warm soup, and take warm baths.
If your partner is starting to think you’re a bit obsessive for wincing the moment a door creaks, a blender whirs, or a dog barks…. Take a deep breath and remind them that this phase of sensitivity will pass and it is mostly due to your hormones being absolutely whack. AKA it’s out of your control and you’re just doing the best you can! You’re not crazy - it’s just your nerves trying to find some peace.
Lastly - Remind yourself that if you have subsequent children, it will be impossible to maintain this level of curated calm in the house with tots running around you. Your baby will be okay - I promise! Trust that you will feel more grounded in the coming weeks! You’re strong.
Brace Yourself for the Sunset
Harry was 3 days old and fussy as ever (sorry, but that word just doesn’t do it justice. “Fussy”? Can we come up with a new word? “Fussy” is your aunt, sharing that she’s unhappy with the floral arrangement at her dog’s visitation). With just a handful of short naps under Harry’s belt that day, John and I were desperate for a moment of quiet as a family on the couch.
My bra was around my waist, shirt on the floor, where it stayed most of the time since Harry was born. Why was I so optimistic about getting dressed? In one moment, I was bone tired but otherwise okay – in the next, I felt a cold panic flood my body. This was the first of more than a dozen times over the next couple weeks that I thought to myself,
“I feel like I should be in a mental hospital. I think I’m going crazy. I think I need to be in a facility.”
It turns out sundowner’s anxiety is quite the real thing during those first weeks of life with a newborn at home. As I navigated the largest hormone drop of any time in a human’s life, something about the sun setting in the evening was incredibly triggering and difficult. I can only describe it in so many words but I wouldn’t wish that kind of panic on anyone. It felt like in a matter of a few seconds, my entire worldview changed and the floor fell out from under me. I had a sense of impending doom and dread that was so strong that it made me unable to speak, distract myself, or move. I was frozen in a hopeless loop of thoughts. Even crying, which otherwise flowed effortlessly during this chapter, felt inaccessible.
As the light outside shifted from bright yellow to a blue haze in the undeniable shift from day into night, I started to feel terrified. When it happened for that first time just 3 days after Harry was born, I looked over to John with an expression of complete shock that was probably stuck on my face for 20 minutes.The mere thought of facing another night of endless cries, aching muscles, challenging nursing sessions, and bleeding just about did me in. Thank goodness I had John by my side every time the sundowner’s anxiety set in. Because it was hard to communicate when this dread washed over me, my only communication was in the form of quietly whispering John’s name or saying “I’m okay” until, maybe 30 minutes later, his efforts to distract me and pull me out of the panic proved successful. I slowly started feeling more like myself as I returned to my body, shook my arms, counted objects in the room, and forced myself to laugh.
And so we went- the sun slept we tossed, turned, wept latched, twisted. light coming through, sun rising- joy and perfect moments.
The act of setting your baby down
Every baby is different and my experience may differ greatly from yours, but I need to tell you….
You may not be able to put your baby down.
You may have a baby that fights being set down at all costs. For us, “at all costs” meant that the moment I shifted my seemingly content (either awake or sleeping) baby out of my arms, he stirred and/or cried immediately, which required us to start over from scratch in our effort to soothe him or rock him to sleep.
I need you to know this so that you don’t have to waste your precious time and energy processing the absolute shock of having a high-needs baby like I did.
And to those reading this thinking, “come on, don’t be so dramatic” or “it sounds like you just needed to get your baby on a good schedule” or “my kids were fine being set down!”, please know that I am only speaking from my personal experience.
I was completely unprepared for the reality of a sensitive, colicky baby that needed a lot of support to settle and fall asleep. John and I spent hours every day walking, rocking, swaying, and feeding in an effort to soothe our baby. Many times, nothing worked.
Here’s the lesson that took me about 12 weeks to understand: This phase of your baby needing you so intensely will pass. Also, you will burn out 10x faster if you keep fighting it.
Almost every iteration of newborn behavior is completely normal, but that’s not what the blogs and reels lead you to believe. They will give you ranges of “normal” sleep times, patterns and wake windows – but even that doesn’t paint a realistic picture of what it actually looks like in those first few weeks with a newborn.
Invest in a comfortable carrier (I love this one), learn about all of your options for safe sleep (safe co-sleeping is often necessary for many families with colicky babies), and let your loved ones care for you by bringing you food so that you can rest as much as you possibly can in those brief moments of peace amidst the chaos.
When nothing else worked, I found myself praying for peace and softening over and over again while I fed my tiny baby in my arms in the dark of the night. Yes, praying! There’s nothing like parenthood to make you drawn to the act of closing your eyes and acknowledging the beauty, pain, and hope all around you.
The Full Catastrophe of Motherhood
Speaking of praying in the dark of the night - let me introduce you to a concept that catapulted me into healing when I was a couple months postpartum: the full catastrophe of motherhood.
In her book, To Have and To Hold: Motherhood, Marriage, and The Modern Dilemma, Molly Millwood, PhD discusses the numerous complex challenges of existing as a woman, mother, and a wife in our modern culture. My dear friend in town lent me this book when I needed it most last winter.
The “full catastrophe” that Millwood references is a term borrowed by fellow psychologist Harriet Lerner, who explains the importance of recognizing how motherhood involves many layers of love, pain, fear, joy, and anguish that are unable to exist without the other. Oftentimes, the simple recognition of this phenomenon is what gives us the power to find peace through it.
Millwood writes, “Pain is far more tolerable than suffering…. Are there layers of pain and suffering that could be peeled apart? Might I be able to find some relief if I remove the judgment from what I’m feeling, and just notice the feeling itself?”.
It should’ve come as no surprise that mindfulness, being an essential piece of my approach as a doula during physiological childbirth, would also be essential in my healing through motherhood. Millwood expands on this idea in adding,
“The suffering comes when we resist, fear, or deny that the full catastrophe exists — when we favor the good and the beautiful over the bad and the ugly, as if we might somehow, if we just try hard enough, be able to experience the former without the latter.”
I read that and I soften.
I sigh. I nod my head. I don’t have to keep fighting it.
I was in the thick of the full catastrophe! I was supposed to be wading through a haze of infinite joy and infinite pain — I was a mother!
This is the pain of love cracking your heart open! This is the ultimate vulnerability! This is how things are right now and that is okay!
This is peace!