Sick, Tired, Fulfilled, Happy, Postpartum
Reflections on a long weekend with babies and a looming postpartum health crisis
This week, I’m doing something a little different with the newsletter. Instead of one longer piece, I’m doing to write a series of short reflections. This modality is meant to challenge my brain and offer you a different pace; nothing too wild. Hope you enjoy!
On the Temporal Fugue of a Long and Winding Weekend.
[Yesterday,] I got to tip-tap-typing on my work laptop for the day, looked up at noon and realized I had fully forgotten it was Tuesday and that I owed my hoards of ravenous, grub-hungry Substack subscribers a few measly morsels of motherly self-reflection. All I could muster up were some whistful why can’t it still be the weekend side glances at the screen. As I toggled between email and Substack and LinkedIn and Ikea.com - because we need a toddler bed for our guy - I realized my brain was running on fumes and a too-long to-do list. A browser tab hates to see me coming.
Rather than snapping myself into shape and pushing out some hasty, unconsidered content, I paused and gave myself grace. This is something I probably wouldn’t have done a year ago, and so we will mark this move towards self-compassion and away from hustle as a win.
The Tuesday after a holiday Monday carries the air of waking up in a fog from a late afternoon nap.
Its confusing how late it is.
What did I miss? Where am I?
Work feels pointless.
There’s no use in beginning a cleaning project or baking bread from scratch, now that you’ve awoken from a late nap. The best you can do is bridge those last sleepy hours between naptime and bedtime with a set of slow and mindful actions: taking a leisurely walk, ordering takeout, cracking open your in-progress book to softly read a few chapters without expectation. Give yourself (and others) grace.
The Best Long-Weekend Formula For When You’re Staying Put
Before kids, I often experienced jealousy and FOMO during long weekends. In my twenties, watching friends on Instagram spending days baking in the sun on boat decks, cracking open some fresh crustaceans on the coast, and ‘cheers’-ing at some trendy rooftop bar made me feel like a loser for seeking a quieter or more restful path.
Then, when I was the one with big plans, I’d remember that sunburns hurt, I get seasick in a kayak, and the trendiest spots have long lines and big price tags, just to name a few. These less idyllic aspects of Summer adventure go largely uncaptured on social media. Don’t be fooled by the filter.
Cut to being in our thirties with small kids and that FOMO is barely a waft of a memory. Making the decision to stay local on a long weekend brings a huge sigh of relief: in knowing we’ve avoided the gymnastic logistics of travel with babies, in realizing that core memories are made in safe and familiar spaces, and in leaning into the restorative bonds of hanging in the backyard with some close friends and family without agenda.
No matter your plans, I find the most subtle-but-palpable joy in a long weekend is in skipping out on the routine of errands and chores. The joy is in saying no to big box stores for a few days and yes to a diner breakfast and an afternoon pastry and a jaunt around a local toy store. In pushing off the grocery list to some future super-you that can handle work and school and errands. In lingering over coffee, lounging during babies’ nap time, and saying yes to (extra) dessert.
This past weekend, our family said yes to our neighborhood parade, to planting even more in the raised garden bed, to bouncing the outdoor basketball lots and lots and to making pretzels from scratch, to name a few.
What does a long weekend spent at or nearby home spark for you?
Babe, Are you Ignoring Your Postpartum Health?
I can’t remember the last time I felt normal. A doctor asks about my last menstrual cycle and I think back to the one I had in between weaning our first baby and conceiving our second. I consider the baseline exhaustion I feel around the clock to be my (new) normal. I’m always thirsty, often have to pee, and am regularly very hungry. Lately, I’ve felt lightheaded most times I stand or lean over. But that’s just breastfeeding, right?
From what I glean in regular conversation with other postpartum and breastfeeding parents, this situation of struggling to achieve and maintain basic bio-stasis is pretty common.
One recent day, I messaged a group of breastfeeding moms near me, asking about the constant lightheadedness, and was met with a chorus of “same, girl, same.” Stories were exchanged among those who had actually fainted from the fatigue, dehydration, and general drain and strain of feeding a tiny human.
Regardless of how we may advocate and actively support the health of friends, family, and certainly our children, the postpartum moms are not alright. We write off symptoms and early warning signs, because everything is a little bit off, which makes it hard to know when something is actually off - like, in a bad way. We dutifully schedule our kids’ myriad appointments, while failing to establish our own basic care.
We drag our heels, not wanting to put in the required effort to help ourselves, because we’re exhausted and it just sounds hard. Until it bubbles over and its an emergency.
- LJ
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