The Again Postpartum

It was 2am, my massive body cradled around her tiny back and I tried to hold her close despite my mammoth mid section. Tears poured from my eyes as I smelled her soft hair and felt her deep smooth sleep breaths. I was about to take a wrecking ball to her life… sort of like how I kept accidently knocking her down with my belly?

I was 35 weeks pregnant with not one, but two babies. I was about to disappear almost completely, while somehow staying always in her sight. Her life, our bond… what would become of it? I cried and cried, trying not to wake her. 

3 weeks postpartum - 
“Come and see what Nali did?!” 

“Who’s Nali?” I asked gingerly…

“She’s my friend, and she’s in BIG trouble”

Unlatching from a tandem breastfeed without waking either baby, feeling like some sort of shape shifting lactation magician, I knew that I wasn’t going to like what I found and that I probably wouldn’t like Nali much either. 

Sweet holy bananas. 

The floor of her bedroom was a foot deep sea of clothes. Every drawer open. Every item she owned strewn across the room. The back up baby drawers scattered to the wind also. 

I made the mistake of turning my head to look at the wall across. Perfect, a mural. In a sharpie. In our Brooklyn rental. 

Hot lava mama rage. Deep cooling mama breaths. My belly band was itching profusely. I was leaking. Hungry. How many physical and emotional feelings can one person have at one time? Was I about to laugh? Cry? Yell? 

Two weeks later 

We had spent 3 hours getting two 5 week old babies fed, changed, fed again, burped, changed and in their car seats to head to a passport application appointment (nourishing!) and as I was finally peeing, big sister walked into the bathroom “Look mama! I am a spooky monster!” 

Covered. Head to toe. In a coconut oil based homemade diaper cream. Her hair was luscious for many weeks. 

Despite these moments, the many logistical barriers to rest, and other challenges that come with welcoming a second (or third, or fourth or more!) child, a nourished postpartum is possible. Would you believe me if I said that my twin postpartum experience with a 3 year old was actually pretty great? Nourished, even? It’s true. The first year was actually, almost totally okay, which I attribute to the intense postpartum planning and open arms receiving of any and all support that was offered/available to me. 

*Like all good things, this period did… shift. So, before you think I am a total unicorn let’s just add that someday we can unpack the subsequent 18 months? Insert teeth clenched emoj. Insert late onset PPMAD emoji (there should for sure be PPMAD emojis)

Erica and I argue that with every subsequent pregnancy, a nourished postpartum becomes even more essential. 

Postpartum people with older children need more support, not less. 

Postpartum people with older children need more abundant meal trains, not less. 

Postpartum people with older children need more naps, not less. 

Postpartum people with older children need more joy, not less. 

Postpartum people with older children need more foot rubs, not less. 

Crossing the threshold when you don’t know what to expect can be so scary. Crossing it when you DO know what to expect can be, for some, even scarier. A person welcoming another child into their family may be still dealing with birth trauma from their first child, they may be worried about experiencing another postpartum mood disorder, and they will certainly be hyper focused on the experience of the older sibling(s). How can we more deeply see and show up for the ‘again’ postpartum parents among us?

Crossing the threshold again is a powerful opportunity to do things differently, to call in more support, to receive in a deeper way. The ‘again’ postpartum parents among us, if you needed a permission slip to set up the nourished postpartum experience you wish you had previously - consider it granted.