5 Things I Wish I’d Known About Having a Newborn in January
What Giving Birth in Late December (Twice!) Taught Me About Seasonality
A Degree of Depression is Inevitable
While my doctor, my midwife, my NCT instructors and even my mother cautioned me to expect some level of “baby blues” in the first few weeks of life post-birth, no one prepared me for the lingering blah that hung around for me for months postpartum. Many women experience postnatal depression, but if you live somewhere very far North as I do, a later winter birth leaves you contending not only with a huge drop in hormones, but also a huge lack of sunlight in those first tender months. While yers of living in the UK had familiarised me with the duller rhythm to this time of year, I was unprepared for how jarring this would feel intermixed with the new rhythms of family life. Naps and inclement weather made it hard to get outside, and nights were broken up by my babies’ needs, which conflicted with my own. Waking hours were spent dancing between manic activity and quieter repetitive tasks that could feel tedious. Instead of surrendering to these rhythms and accepting the quieter moments as a call to rest in the darkness of the season, I wearied myself trying to fix everything. Acceptance of my low mood might have allowed it to pass with less meaning attached to it, and even given me more immediate peace.
My Babies Might Also Experience the Baby Blues
The interior life of an infant remains a mystery, but we know that babies are incredibly sensitive and tuned into their mothers. If the cold, the lack of light, the isolation and my own hormonal matrix affected me, it would naturally affect my babies too. Allowing for this possibility would have helped me see their upsets and struggles as a mirror to my own. I might have been able to greet them compassion rather than with gritted teeth and a feeling of helplessness. It may have allowed to me to feel like we were in this together, as part of a team, and taken pressure off of me to know how to fix everything for all of us.
The Natural Inward Pull of This Season Might Shrink External Resources
While hopefully we receive love and practical support from close friends and family, most people head into January exhausted and in need of replenishment. Because I was already disoriented by the newness of motherhood and emotionally unbalanced by my plummeting hormones, it was easy to take any lack of support personally — and overlook the gestures of help that did arrive. I also found that I received many more visits, meals and help with our first — which was amazing, but we really needed it after our twins arrived and our family was crushed by overwhelm. As with any big shifts in life, you may be surprised by who shows up for you, and who is absent; it usually isn’t personal, but it can hard to see that in the middle of the storm. Collectively, our ever-increasing nervous system deregulation can leave even well-meaning, loving friends emotionally depleted and unable to show up as you might like - especially in the post-holiday period when many of us are feeling low.
Vitamins, Nourishing Foods and Warmth are Non-Negotiables
I spent most of the fourth trimester, as it is often called, wrapped in a bellyband — not a waist trainer, but a Japanese warming layer described charmingly and humorously in this book. I wore this not as an attempt to re-shrink my waist (I tried red raspberry leaf tea for that), but in an endeavour to stay warm. I found that post-birth, my body and its preferences had become mysterious to me. Where I was usually cold, I would feel hot (at least so long as I nursed), and other times I could not for the life of me warm up. Our old, poorly insulated house didn’t help; I used to joke that I froze the baby weight off. I remember reaching the lanolin at 3AM and finding it frozen in the tube.
We know so much more about postnatal depletion that we did even ten years ago when I first experienced it. In winter, all the natural world is quiet and at rest, restoring itself, getting ready to bloom. We can take cues from nature and do the same, understanding that this is not a season of natural vitality, and so supplementation and eating well are essential. I wish I had taken this more seriously, and hadn’t been quite so concerned with returning to how I thought I should look.
There is No Prayer More Powerful than the Prayer of a Mother
The quiet struggle of this season is an invitation and an initiation. The job of a mother isn’t to “fix,” but her prayer holds immense power. There are challenges I thought I would never overcome; I thought there would be no end to the suffering of my youngest. But as Mother Julian said, “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” Nothing lasts, and remembering this can help us come into presence with what is. And in presence is where all great change is made.
