Worth the Time
Usually an effusive person, today she was at a loss for words. Because she was uncomfortable while breastfeeding, I planned to make a home visit that day.
This was her second child, five days old and they’d been home for 3 days. The baby was doing well: comfortable latch, peeing, pooping. Why was the mom uncomfortable?
She’d made a ‘nest’ in their upstairs bedroom with her chair, pillows nearby. We sat quietly together while she nursed and all seemed fine. Downstairs, however, the couch sagged and her older child’s toys were strewn about. Her husband and I re-organized the area so she could settle into her new nest. She nursed comfortably while we three had a friendly conversation. Yes, this did feel better.
“All right then” her husband said as he gave her a kiss, “I’m glad it’s settled” and he left to make lunch. Then she began to weep.
This is what was bothering her. In the three days she’d been home, this was the first time she’d simply sat down comfortably with anyone and the baby. Upstairs in the bedroom, she felt isolated. Downstairs, carefully planned toddler routines bumped into chaotic infant non-schedules. These newborn days had felt like another event to schedule on their calendar.
With their first, they’d spent uncounted hours gazing at the baby, reveling in the feel of a warm newborn in their arms. Clocks were useless; their feelings were fragile and important. This had been a necessary luxury and it had felt extraordinary.
Unlike her first, this second labor had been induced and from the beginning to end, was timed, monitored and managed. During two days at the hospital, she was continually interrupted. She cried quietly as she said this.
Was the second baby any less extraordinary? She wondered. She wanted this time be valued partly because she knew how soon it would evaporate.
It was important to recognize the extraordinary things in this experience: the delight of a newborn’s weight on her chest, the yeasty newborn smells, little fingers wrapping around her one.
Traditions that preserve a special postpartum space make sense. Biologically speaking, in the first two weeks the mom’s hormones are at their highest for recovery and establishing an abundant milk supply. Mothers are hormonally primed to have heightened protectiveness and awareness. The baby, too, is still figuring out its way of being. In some Native American traditions, it is believed that the baby is not quite here ‘on the earth’ until he/she smiles, usually around the 2nd week. That signifies that the baby has fully arrived, is here to stay, and there is a welcoming ceremony.
There is great value in honoring the first two weeks. These moments do evaporate quickly though on a deep physical level, you never forget them. It helps to settle the experience in your soul and your bones. And every baby deserves a warm welcome.