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Food For Thought life Self Love and Personal Growth

Grieving the Past

It’s recently occurred to me that I’ve been unknowingly grieving my old life before the pandemic started and before becoming a mom. Not because I want to go back and change anything, but because life changed so abruptly and seriously in multiple ways. I never felt like I had time to stop and reflect on it. I had one positive test, and I couldn’t stop throwing up. One positive test, and every smell or step at work depleted me. One positive test, and I couldn’t eat anything. Then, add a pandemic on top of the whole pregnancy thing. And then, add moving back to your hometown and finishing your last class of college alongside being pregnant in a pandemic. Life came at me fast.

So when I left college, I didn’t treat my departure as an ending, as if I was never coming back. I never said goodbye to anyone. I never got to look back and close that chapter of my life. I didn’t even get to cross the stage in a cap and gown to signify the end of my college career. I assumed I would get to go back because I had to get the rest of my items. I assumed I would be able to say goodbye and introduce my baby to everyone who touched my life. I assumed covid would be over by the time I gave birth. I assumed I had time to fully, mentally close that chapter of my life.

Time has told, all of those assumptions were wrong. I still haven’t been able to make it back, despite plans to go. Suddenly, I put a pause in my career and eventually went in a new direction. Suddenly, I was no longer a student. Suddenly, the dynamics of all the friendships and relationships I made, changed. Let’s be real. It has been two years since the start of the pandemic and we have all changed since it began.

Grieving is weird. I’m sure you’ve heard, it’s a five step process. It can occur out of thin air and last for ages. It’s not linear, meaning we can jump back and forth between the different stages. Most of the times I have heard or seen it, it has been associated with the death of a loved one. But that’s not the only time we grieve. When anything ends- a relationship, a career path, a life path, an idea or plan we are passionate about- we grieve. We may not experience every step, or experience it very deeply, but it’s still a grieving process.

I am starting to understand that my grief has been presenting as anxiety. I’ve looked back at my college years, and worried I wasn’t present or fun enough, worried I wasn’t vulnerable or expressive enough. I worried I didn’t show my appreciation or cherish the moment enough. I’ve cringed at stupid and embarrassing situations I’ve put myself in or reacted to. I’ve missed the community that comes with college life. The freedom of not having a kid. The times I spent with friends and coworkers, even the ones where our relationships have ended. I’ve missed the moments I wish I could relive again and again so I never forget the feeling.

And being nostalgic about those memories makes me nostalgic and existential in general because life changes and moves so fast and you don’t even realize it until you’re in the future. Like my daughter has met people I have known for ten or more years. It’s a trippy experience to realize how much time goes by. My baby is almost two years old! It’s already been two years since I graduated college, since I left Vegas, since I was pregnant, and it has just recently began to feel like Vegas is my past. And that’s what makes grieving and nostalgia so weird, because in that grief state (especially in my case which was mixed with a little postpartum, post grad, pandemic depression), time flies by but it doesn’t seem like we are moving with it.

A loss isn’t always a loss- it can be a good thing. And that makes grieving weird. Because grieving brings about feelings of nostalgia. It makes you reminisce about the past, even if you’re happy with your present and excited about your future. I grieve the simplicity of life in college and before. I reflect on who I was. Still, I think everything happened for me the way it should’ve. I think I needed to leave Vegas, and I wouldn’t have done it without a push.

Eventually, we stop grieving. Eventually, we catch up. Recently I turned a new leaf. And it was once I accepted where I am now, that I realized I hadn’t accepted it until then. Vegas was my past and now that I am no longer grieving, I can live in the present. I’m not who I was before the baby, the pandemic, and graduating college and other people aren’t the same either. Changing, growing, getting older, grieving, and reminiscing is all a part of life.

Categories
Food For Thought life Self Love and Personal Growth

Turning a New Leaf

I’ve spent the months since covid first started two years ago, the months since I was pregnant, the months since I became a new mom, the months since I’ve graduated college, the months of entering adulthood, really the months of entering the “real world” moving back and forth between a headspace full of anxiousness and depressing thoughts and feeling at peace and confident with myself.

There have been, and probably will truthfully continue to be, days when I want to keep to myself. Days I overthink too much about everything. Days I worry about the ways of the world and the future for my daughter. Days I worry about my future. Days when I’m irritable and easily over simulated. Days when I feel like I’m not enough. Days when I feel alone.

But right now, in these few weeks, in this moment, something’s changed. Recently, I turned a new leaf because I finally have a therapist/coach, after two plus years of leaving that on my to-do list, to help me work through my baggage and to heal for both me and my daughter. Recently, I turned a new leaf, because I left the job that made me feel misunderstood, anxious, overworked, and under-appreciated. Recently, I turned a new leaf because my confidence boosted and I started to feel beautiful and more like myself again.

With me, feelings come in waves. And though right now, things are looking up, I recognize that one day, hopefully in the distant future, I’ll probably start feeling down again. So right now, I’m basking in the sun and embracing the wave of contentment, confidence, and appreciation. Appreciation for the people in my life who have stuck around and reached out to me, even when I’m not the easiest to talk to. Appreciation for my new job where I work longer hours but feel stable, uplifted, supported, and valued. Appreciation for my little girl who constantly manages to surprise me. Appreciation for my family who always helps me when I need it. Appreciation for my life and the little things I experience day by day.

I say all of this to say that even if things are horrible or at least feel horrible right now, it doesn’t mean it will always be. And even though we may not be the same and our situations might not be the same, it couldn’t hurt to remember life happens in stages and chapters. What we feel and experience today, we may not in a year, a month, a week, a day, or an hour. Though there are many factors of our life that are uncontrollable and there’s nuances to everything, sometimes situations or even our thoughts and feelings about said situations have to change for it to feel and be different.

Categories
Children life

Musings of a New Mom

Parenthood is fulfilling. It’s surreal. It’s a blessing. Parenthood is frustrating. And exhausting. And anxiety fueling. Parenting, especially being a mom, is a never ending responsibility. Even when I’m not with her, I can’t help but wonder what she’s up to. And she’s only 10 months old. She’s not even able to leave the house or do anything on her own yet. How will it be in 10 more months? In five years? In ten years?

Being a mom is objectively the most fulfilling lifestyle I’ve incorporated. It’s enhanced my belief in the universe and a higher power. I don’t believe everyone should be a parent, nor that it is everyone’s purpose. I think the conversation about having children is too nuanced for this post, though I touch a little on it here. I do think being a mother is meant to be a part of my journey. Experiencing pregnancy, childbirth, and becoming a parent has given me a new perspective on life. It’s caused me to view other parents in a different light and has made it even easier for me to extend grace to others. It’s similar to how when you’re a child you view adults on a pedestal, looking up to them, only to grow up and realize everyone is really just trying their best and struggling in at least one area of their lives. There’s a different level of understanding of what parenthood is after being an active parent and caretaker.

Something I learned as a parent is that there really isn’t a right way to parent. Objectively there are “wrong” ways, because to a point human development is a science, we experience emotions, and trauma is everlasting, but there is no clear cut, one size fits all, way to parenting. People will shame and judge for minuscule things (like formula versus breast milk) and half of those people won’t even have kids of their own. What’s important is being active, present, and supportive for your child in whatever way works for your lifestyle and family.

Being a mom has given a new meaning to the word sacrifice, especially in the midst of covid. I spent nine months sacrificing my body for her. I’ll spend the rest of my life making decisions I hope benefits both of us. I’ve said “no” to outings I would have otherwise done in a heartbeat. Being a mom has made me more thoughtful and intentional in my actions. It’s made me want and hopefully succeed in being more present in my day to day life and spend less time on my phone and inside my inner world. It’s made me understand and become even more appreciative of the sacrifices and choices my parents have made throughout our lives to give my brother and I the lives they’ve given us.

Parenthood makes me anxious. Because what if one day she just stops breathing when she’s sleeping? (Luckily I think we’re past the SIDS phase). Or what if she hits her head too many times when she’s playing? Or what if I’m not doing enough to teach her and am stifling her development? What if I’m not spending enough time with her? And in this way, parenting really is a sort of projection. It forces you to look at yourself and your fears and your guilt and your boundaries. It forces you to look at how you were raised and decide how you want to parent.

Sometimes, I find myself comparing my daughter’s growth to the babies I’ve seen born around the same time. Sometimes I wonder if other people parent in similar ways than I do or if I’m just completely off mark in some respects. Sometimes, I feel guilty the few times I’m out with friends without her. Sometimes, I wish I had a little more free time and space to be carefree away from responsibilities.

In a few years there has to be studies on the effect the pandemic has made on babies and pregnancy. Being pregnant during a pandemic was experiencing two traumas at once. Being pregnant during a pandemic after graduating college, I could argue was experiencing three. I was experiencing three major changes in my life with little face to face contact with others. It felt like out of nowhere I popped up with a baby because few people actually saw me pregnant. Few people knew until late in my second trimester. And now I have a baby and we’re still in this weird standby with Covid, so few people have seen her in person. One of my friends was asking for more pictures of her, and it’s made me realize outside of social media, I really don’t think to send out pictures or updates of her in texts. I was thinking about why, and it is really for no other reason than the fact that I experienced pregnancy pretty isolated from people outside of my household. And now that the world is sort of opening up and I’m less isolated, I have to link the two realities.

The craziest part about parenting is seeing my little girl develop and do new things she wasn’t doing before. Before having a baby, I have been around babies and toddlers and children, but in their separate stages. I had never seen human development day by day with my own eyes before. Now she’s clapping and trying to stand all the time. She recognizes certain words. She knows her name. In ten plus months my baby went from a solely eating, sleeping, pooping newborn who couldn’t lift her head to a full blown baby who is starting to eat solids, who can crawl, and can sit up and stand by herself. Babies’ development is so drastic in the first year and it’s amazing to see it play out with my own eyes. She’s really growing and learning. She’s really almost a toddler.

Time has been moving so differently since the pandemic and my pregnancy. Sometimes, I worry I will blink and she’ll already be twenty one. She’s only a few months away from being a year, and I still look at her newborn pictures with nostalgia. It feels like it happened so long ago. It makes me want to freeze time.

Around this time (October 27th, 2021), a post has been going around Twitter from a mother who was struggling and unhappy in an attempt to shame her. I don’t have a picture of the post but it was a call for help. She was expressing some regrets and frustration about the reality of motherhood for her. And as parents, specifically mothers, it’s worth mentioning that society doesn’t often extend grace to us the way we deserve. The idea of being a super mom has become propaganda. People use the fact the most of the time motherhood is a choice as a weapon against mothers. People expect mothers to be at the top of their game all the time and to care for their kids without complaint or mentioning how their life has changed. (Please note, they don’t expect the same from fathers though).

Most people don’t genuinely know how or have the thought or time to be supportive of mothers. Unless you yourself are an active parent or caregiver, you will never fully understand that amount of physical, mental, and emotional energy that goes into caring for someone else. (Caring for pets can bring similar feelings but it’s different). And when you’re caring for someone else, you’re also caring for yourself and handling your own responsibilities too. That’s double on your plate, assuming you’re only responsible for one other person. I don’t know how people with multiple babies and toddlers do it. I don’t know how truly single mothers do it. I don’t know how teen mothers do it. I have newfound respect for parents and caregivers honestly. I can’t stress that enough.

It sucks that mothers, including myself, feel the need to shower the benefits of motherhood before talking about the harder parts. Why do we have to have the disclaimer– My kid is the best thing that has happened to me– before saying it hurt when she head butted me in the mouth while throwing a tantrum and caused my lip to bleed. Why do we feel so shamed to talk about the frustrations of raising and guiding another human being? Parenting is hard! You have to look at yourself and your boundaries and remember that your baby or toddler isn’t intentionally being harmful when they do hurtful things. One minute my baby is cute and precious and the next she’s testing my patience. I roll my eyes at every tantrum and cherish every moment of affection. No matter how she acts, I still love her the same and will always love her with my entire heart.

Being a parent is a living oxymoron. When she’s fussy, I beg for her to take a nap. And when she’s asleep, I want her to wake up. My daughter makes me roll my eyes when she cries because she can’t chew on my glasses and in a moment can make me smile when she rests her head on me. She makes me laugh when she has a giggle fit. She makes me frustrated when she bites me cause she’s teething. She makes me proud when she babbles back in conversation and makes me grin when she starts bouncing to a song. And when I want a break and leave her with one of my family members, I have the urge to check in after a few minutes. This goes back to the guilt of experiencing things for and by myself. It’s like when it’s summer you want it to be winter. When it’s winter, you want it to be summer. It’s probably best just to embrace the moment.

The reality is once you become an active parent or caregiver, few things are ever just about you anymore. The only time I have completely by myself is in the middle of the night if I can’t sleep and on my commute to work. Any plans made requires approval for someone else to make sure they will watch the baby or going to a family friendly place. Before, I wanted to succeed in my career; now I have to continue gaining experience so that I can thrive in it. Being a mom, for me, means she comes first. There’s a reason airplanes instruct parents to help themselves first, in case of an emergency; that’s not the instinct. Being a mom means I make sure she’s settled before I eat or leave for work. It means she’s asleep or someone’s with her before I go to sleep. It means I think twice before making plans and I give myself an extra hour to get ready to leave the house. It’s means I rush when I do anything that takes my attention away from her.

Being a parent can take away from your individuality. Children need pretty constant attention in the early years of childhood. Everything is about the baby for at least the first year- I’m not sure when that ends. Especially when the baby is a newborn, people will check in on the baby, before checking in on you. They’ll understandably ask to see the baby when making plans with you. And when other people see you taking time away from your child, whether they themselves are parents or not, they tend to have something negative to say. Again, this is more so directed at mothers than fathers.

I have support, so it’s not like I can never have time to myself, but it doesn’t shake the guilt that comes with even the thought of taking time for myself. It’s been ten almost eleven months and I’ve never been away from her for an entire day. The idea of leaving her for that long is still hard. My baby didn’t ask to be born into this world; the least I can do is be present for her. This doesn’t mean that I and other mothers and parents are not still our own people though. It doesn’t mean we don’t deserve time away sometimes just because we chose to have children. It is so important to me that I and others don’t lose ourselves in parenthood and instead let it enhance us and became just another one of our identities.

My priorities, mindset, and perspective has completely changed from a year ago since becoming pregnant and a mother. Creating a happy and healthy life for my daughter and I is my goal in life. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I can truly express how much I love her with words, even when she gets on my nerves.

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Food For Thought life Societal

The Complexities of Humans

Humans are complex. We are eager to learn and to be innovative. We are relatively self aware. We have a physical body, a curious mind, and a spiritual soul. Our minds have the capacity to store information and experience a wide range of emotions. We can problem solve with complex thinking and emotional understanding, not solely act out of instinct. There’s still a lot we have yet to discover or thoroughly understand about the human body and mind. But one thing’s for sure. Humans are alike and different. We’re all multifaceted, made up of a variety of characteristics and identities.

There are many factors, some chosen some not, who make us into the people we are. I read somewhere once that people are a combination of pieces of everyone they have met and connected with throughout their life. This makes sense when you consider that our brains try to mimic what we see. That’s why we yawn when we see someone else yawn. We pick up phrases and mindsets of the people we are around. Who we surround ourselves with impacts who we are.

Everyone we connect with whether in passing or in a deep relationship, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, can leave lasting impacts on us. Some are subtle scratches, some are deep wounds that take time to heal. Those experiences teach us what it is we like, dislike, want, will accept, and will reject while shaping the way we understand the world and others.

On an individual basis, it can be hard to remember the complexities of humans. We interact with someone and use that as a basis for how we view them. We can fail to see that those moments are only a sliver of who the person is. (Sometimes the moments we have with others are misrepresentations and/or projections). It can be hard to see someone else as a whole person with a past and encounters that make them into who they are. It’s not for everyone to know everything about you, unless you choose for it to be, nor for you to know everything about everyone you encounter. It is something to keep in mind that can help if you have trouble taking things personally.

Just think about yourself for a second. Do you treat everyone in your life exactly the same? Has every person you’ve ever crossed paths with, even for a brief moment, experienced the same you as others do? I mean, that would be seemingly impossible because our moods and mindsets can change daily. Prior events lead to current moments which can lead to a variety of emotions.

For example, different people know different ways to make me laugh. Some people bring out the worst in me, others motivate me. Some are quick to ask me advice and vent about life. Some I can talk about reality tv and anime with. I talk about work with coworkers in a different way than I would a friend, just as I talk about motherhood differently to people who are mothers.

Everyone we connect with affects us differently, even if it feels similar to someone else. Everyone taps into different parts of us. No one has the same exact relationship with you, as you and they have with others, even if you know mutual people from the same environment. When you remember that, you remember that we all probably don’t treat everyone in the same way, and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

I saw a post on Twitter one day that asked, when did you start to see your parents as whole people a part from you. And now being a mom it’s something I think about every so often. It’s easy to forget parents experienced so much before their children get here, even if they had them young. Their encounters shape who they are which can shape who their children become and when those children have kids that cycle continues. But as a kid and growing up, it’s easy to only see them as parents. Even when parents speak on the past, their children weren’t there to experience it. Some parents go more in depth than others. Some are still healing from scars their children don’t even know about. And all of this would affect their treatment of their child.

And this isn’t just true about parents. It’s true about everyone we encounter. Everyone, even the most privileged, is going through shit, manageable or not, all the time. How we see others may not truly be who they are and vice versa. Someone being kind to you doesn’t mean they’re kind to others. Reacting poorly in one situation doesn’t automatically make someone a bad person. Sometimes we don’t understand the actions of others, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re wrong.

For example, a couple years ago when I was evidently depressed and just in the dumps about life, I didn’t want to do anything or be social. It turned people the wrong way when I would cancel going to an event to work instead. But the thing was, I didn’t mind working because if I had to do something I figured I might as well make money from it. It made me feel productive and distracted all while my brain could turn off. I didn’t feel the need to have to connect or be present at work like I would at a social gathering.

Inside out is one of my favorite Pixar movies. It deals with human emotion and the brain in a playful way as it relates to kids. One of the biggest take aways from the movie is that an event can bring about mixed emotions. Sometimes you’re going to be overwhelmed with emotions but it’s healthier to feel it out than to let it build up. Memories can bring about multiple emotions like happiness and sadness and jealousy and anger etc. All those feelings occur because of different reasons even though the event is the same. Perspective, man.

The same is true with people. We are one person who can do a range of different things. We can tell lies, perform acts of kindness, compliment or be mean to others, blow off the people we love, be closed off, insecure, etc. We can be amazing people who do or say bad things, even to ourselves, from time to time. And the reality is, it is up to other people to decide if they want to deal with us or not. Of course we can apologize, change and grow, but no one has to wait around for us to do so, just as we don’t have to wait for others.

So, what I’m trying to say is that we are complex and imperfect. We have flaws and bad days. We make mistakes. We have many characteristics and identities. Everyone gets a slightly different version of us and that doesn’t have to be a negative thing. We are a compilation of our experiences and the people we meet. We are alike and unique. We are forever changing.

Categories
life Pregnancy

Let’s Talk About: Childbirth

After a long 39 weeks, I finally welcomed my baby girl into the world. For the sake of the transparency that I offer on my blog about topics I discuss, here’s what I have to say about childbirth, based on my experience.

For some reason I haven’t thoroughly researched, there’s discourse surrounding the way people give birth. I think generally speaking it doesn’t matter which way a person gives birth. It should be a choice made by the pregnant person. No one should be shamed for the way they give birth. It’s divisive for no reason.

There are benefits to both vaginal birth and c-sections. I wouldn’t say one is easier than the other; each one brings about its own risks and effects. Some are shamed for choosing to have a c section as if it’s not a “real” birth. Some are shamed for using pain medication during a vaginal birth. I find all of the discourse arbitrary. All I advise is you research both options and the use of pain medication as thoroughly as you can, talk to your doctor about your concerns, and make a decision from there.

To put it bluntly, childbirth isn’t easy. A pregnant body is able to change to carry a baby and deliver it, but that doesn’t make it easier or less painful. People downplay the dangers and pain that come with childbirth because there’s a beautiful outcome. Your brain also releases chemicals to make you forgot just how awful the experience was. I was asked by some friends how I rate the overall pregnancy and childbirth experience. I rate it a 2/10. It wasn’t fun for me at all, but I also shockingly would do it all again. I look at my daughter and would repeat it all again in a heartbeat.

If you don’t know by now, I’m not going to sugarcoat my thoughts or experience surrounding pregnancy and childbirth. If you’re looking for something to ease your mind surrounding this, don’t keep reading. Look somewhere else. I’m not saying this to be intimidating. Everyone’s experiences are different and there’s no point in psyching yourself out based on my own experience when you’re looking for comfort.

To me, childbirth is a trauma regardless of the way you deliver your baby. Vaginal birth comes with hours of labor and contractions and hours of pushing a six pound baby out of your vagina. For the people who do it without pain medication, I salute you, cause that could not be me. C-sections are quicker and less painful in terms of the initial delivery, but have other effects that don’t make it any less painful of a process.

I haven’t heard many people’s experiences with childbirth. Because of this, I will share mine. There shouldn’t be a mystery surrounding childbirth and pregnancy. I wholeheartedly believe it needs to be discussed with more authenticity. I think the reason it isn’t is so people don’t get turned off of having kids.

I got a C-section because of my autoimmune disease, but if I had a real choice, I would probably still choose a C-section. The idea of vaginal birth is too traumatizing to me; it scares me, especially when considering the tears that you can experience alongside of the delivery. The C-section I got was also traumatic in a different way though, so you really just need to pick what’s best for you and your situation and know that the pain and discomfort is temporary. The end will all be worth it.

My C-section was scheduled. The date was chosen by my Obgyn based on my due date. I researched what I could to have some sort of understanding about what I was going to experience, but stopped when I realized it was making me more anxious. I couldn’t eat when I woke up. I got to the hospital a couple hours earlier than the scheduled time. They gave me IVs, went through a bunch of health questions, discussed rules surrounding Covid, answered any of my questions, listened to the baby’s heartbeat, monitored me for contractions, and took my vitals. My c section got pushed back because of an emergency one. When the time came, they walked me to the operating room.

It’s cold in there, and not just because they regulate the temperature for the baby’s entrance. Everything’s sterile, the room is bright, and the instruments for the surgery were extra shiny. There was also a pediatrician, my obgyn, another obgyn who was helping with the procedure, an anesthesiologist, and three nurses compacted with me in this overly bright room. Eventually my mom would join us. Luckily, everyone was pretty welcoming.

The first thing that happened was the spinal injection. You have to hunch your back for the anesthesiologist to find the right spot to inject. I felt a spark rush through my thigh that scared me and brought tears to my eyes. The rest of the injection didn’t hurt too much. Almost instantly my legs felt tingly. They lied me on the table and hooked me up to more IVs and a heart rate monitor. They told me I shouldn’t feel any pain but I would feel touching, tugging, and pulling.

They did their various tests to ensure I couldn’t feel pain. I also couldn’t feel the difference between hot or cold below my chest; the blocker really worked. As I’ve said in my previous post, I’ve suffered from nausea my whole pregnancy. I was nauseous waiting for the c-section partly because there was no food in my stomach. The epidural is known to make people nauseous. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t move my body. I couldn’t hear out of one of my ears and when I told them, they assured me it wasn’t because of the epidural, that it was probably because of the environment. I realized I was having a little panic attack.

I tried to swallow the nausea but I couldn’t. I mustered enough strength to tell the anesthesiologist I was nauseous. He handed me a bag and I proceeded to throw up in it. But I couldn’t lift my head, so I was throwing up out of the side of my mouth. I barely made it into the bag. As this is happening my mom got brought it. The procedure had already started. My hearing came back, I continued to throw up, and I tried to stay calm. My mom and the anesthesiologist checked in with me periodically to make sure I was okay.

At some point I was warned I would start to feel some tugging. I could feel it as they reached in to pull out my baby. Before I knew it I heard her crying. I felt like crying but because of the shock of the situation I couldn’t. My mom went to cut the umbilical cord and talk with the pediatrician who did a routine check up. The doctors finished closing me up. I was too nauseous to hold my daughter, but I got to see her close by once the check up was done. After the procedure, they moved me to the recovery room where I stayed with my daughter and my mom for a while. They continued tracking my vitals and those of my newborn. I still felt out of it from the procedure.

People downplay the fact a c-section is a surgery. The spinal blocker didn’t wear off until the next day. I had a catheter put in and when it was taken out the next day I had to remind myself how to pee. It hurt to laugh, sneeze and cough, sit down, stand up, walk and do anything that required abdominal muscles. It’s been about two weeks since my surgery and it still hurts to do some of those things. After a c-section you’re instructed not to do anything pretty much. You can’t push or pull anything. You can’t lift anything heavier than your baby. You can’t do housework. You can’t drive. You can’t exercise. You can’t go up and down stairs too much. For me it was hard to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

Alongside the surgery recovery, is the recovery from childbirth and adjusting to a newborn in general. You start bleeding again as your uterus begins to shrink. You can feel cramping and contractions still. The colostrum from your breasts transitions to milk. The hormones are still there. The risk of postpartum depression exists. You learn more and more about your baby and engage in taking care of them day by day.

Childbirth is a whole spectacle no matter how you delivery. A lot goes into it and the recovery. Officially it’ll take about 6 weeks to be fully recovered from the c section. This is the most in depth I could explain