A Postpartum Wave
Updated: Mar 21
I’ve written that with the milk comes the tears. But also, when the hair falls so does the spirit.
And again came the tears. Which of course make no rational sense. For he is growing and thriving. Every day I step closer towards the self I once was, the clothes I once wore, the energy I once had...
Except none of it looks and feels the same. The world around me seems to think I am unchanged. But how could I be? I’m still raw. Still vulnerable. Still figuring it out all over again. #thisispostpartum
I’m constantly stumbling, failing forward. Basking in the light, dredging through the mud. Expand, contract. Fall and rise. Inhale and exhale.
I’m learning to know when it starts spiraling. That’s when I pull back, slow down and sit in silence. Let it all fall into a blend of tears and sunshine or whatever the mood calls for. I listen more carefully these days.
That’s when I see: Rosie’s green eyes are now a deep shade of olive and she said a million funny things this week I can’t remember. Henry dances through the kitchen at least once a day, Catherine taught herself a new song and William dissects another spelling list with ease.
And Theo who once could curl up underneath my neck in a ball is now getting heavy for a one-arm football hold. When not arching and rolling, he waits for me to look down into his vibrant eyes. Then he smiles and coos with all the magic of motherhood wrapped up in the smallest fleeting moment.
I hope each of you find moments to BE both in the joy, and in the mess. In the tears and in the sun for #motherhood is all of it, every single day that so quickly becomes the past.
You are not alone. We are one in the light and dark like the lotus that rises from and falls back into the mud.
This is #wholeinmitherhood