
This reflection comes from my notes and lived experience in the early weeks postpartum. I’m sharing it now, with hindsight.
I’m about a month postpartum, and this is not what I expected.
Not because it’s harder than I imagined, but because it’s humbling in a way I couldn’t have prepared for.
Even with the research, the support, and the plan.
At one point, I asked my midwife if I would ever pee the same again.
She paused, smiled gently, and said, “No.” That my body would heal, but it would never be the same as it was before.
I remember just sitting with that. Completely still.
It wasn’t upsetting. It was clarifying.
I don’t think I had fully grasped how profound what had just happened was. That my body had crossed a threshold it would never uncross. I kept thinking,
I can’t believe that just happened.
Birth changes your body more profoundly than most of us understand it will. Not just in obvious ways, but in how open, slow, and tender recovery actually feels.
I thought I’d be doing more by now. Instead, I’m learning how to be.
Most days are quiet. The world has gotten very small. My only real job is to heal and to feed my baby.
At first, that felt uncomfortable. Almost disorienting. I’m used to momentum, productivity, and forward motion.
But postpartum doesn’t reward pushing. It asks for surrender.
What’s surprised me most is how essential support actually is. Not as a luxury, but as a requirement.
My husband was so attentive. My mom was here. I had a postpartum doula. My meals were handled, the pets were cared for, the laundry was done. The pace was protected. I know that’s all a luxury.
Because of that, I could rest in a way that felt almost radical.
Not perfect rest. But definitely intentional rest.
I’m beginning to understand why so many cultures center the first 40 days around the mother. Not as tradition, but as wisdom.
This is not a phase to rush through. It’s a foundation.
Physically, emotionally, hormonally, everything is still recalibrating. And the more I allow that to happen without interference, the steadier I feel.
Right now, I’m not worried about getting back to anything. I’m focused on preserving what’s happening here. The slowness, the softness, the cocoon.
If you’re early postpartum too, I want you to know:
You’re not meant to feel capable yet.
You’re not behind if your only accomplishment today was resting and feeding your baby.
And needing support doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re wise enough to accept it.
This season isn’t about bouncing back. It’s about laying down. And trusting that what comes later will rise from that.
With you,
Jen
If you're in this season and want someone to walk through it with you — not with a checklist, but with real understanding of what your body is doing and why — I'd love to connect.
I offer a one-on-one Postpartum Planning Call where we look at what your recovery actually needs based on your life, your budget, and your body. Not a template. A real conversation.
Send me an email at [email protected] to book yours.
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Postpartum Joy Issue #002 —The First 40 Days
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