This is a topic that is quite dear to my heart, I see far too many people wave good bye to this precious time without even realising it.
The immediate time after birth is such a special time that should be treasured, honoured, and most of all respected. Not taken for granted and trampled on by everyone who just wants to smile at the beautiful new soul.
I had vastly different experiences with each of my births, each one taught me valuable lessons, and each has helped to shape the person I am, the person I will become, and the values I hold.
I would like to share with you some of my birth experiences and why the baby moon time is such a special time.
With my first pregnancy I was so super excited (as most first time parents are!), I was planning a natural, drug free vaginal birth. I was part of a one on one midwifery team, I loved my midwife, I had every confidence that everything would be fine. I read a could of books (Active Birth by Janet Balaskas, and Spiritual Midwifery by Ina May Gaskin) and had no doubts in my mind that I would be able to achieve my ideal birth.
Long story short, I really enjoyed my labour. I was drug free until the midwife decided I needed to be augmented (labour sped up by synthetic hormones), and then I asked for some gas (nitrous oxide). I had a lot of fun still though, I think I may have had a little too much- I was using the applicator as a gun between my surges and shooting everyone in the room whilst laughing uncontrollably.
When it came to pushing I was fine until literally the very last push. I could feel my babies head was RIGHT THERE, I forgot everything that I had read about pushing gently, about allowing the midwife to help guide the head out, to protect the perineum, to breathe the baby out. Nope, not what I wanted in that split second. I knew my baby was right there, I was exhausted, I knew all I had to do was one more push and I would have my baby in my arms. I pushed, I pushed harder than I knew possible.
I tore.
I tore badly (4th degree, 3cm into my colon).
I bled. From the tear.
Holding my baby the room filled with people as the emergency button was pushed, the floor was covered in blood, I held my baby in a blissful little bubble.
Then I was being told I had to go have surgery to stitch me up and stop the bleeding, I was being told that I would never be able to have another vaginal birth, I was being told that because of the tear there was a strong chance that I would have incontinence (both urinary and bowel). I was 26. Holding my first baby, being told I may have to wear nappies for the rest of my life, I have to go have surgery, I have to let go of my baby.
Talk about emotion/information overload!
Thankfully for some reason, before the birth I had made the conscious decision that I didn’t want any visitors in the hospital. I am so grateful for this time I had.
The next few days were a blur- the adjustment to having a baby is a big enough jolt to deal with, let alone dealing with major surgery, then dump on top of that the emotional outfall of having a birth experience that didn’t go as I had expected.
My babymoon wasn’t a blissed out zone of eating placenta (that was yet to come), snuggling my newborn in bliss, and relaxing in bed.
Far from it.
It was a time of emotional upheaval- so many tears were shed, it was a time of learning to breastfeed for the first time (how ungraceful and unelegant that was!), a time of rushing to the toilet within seconds of getting an urge to go because I was terrified I wouldn’t make it. I didn’t want spectators, I didn’t want to sit by and smile and pretend everything was ok while everyone was enamored by my baby. I wanted privacy, I wanted space, I wanted my partner to hold me while I cried and he told me everything was going to be ok.
By the time I was home, I was ready for my family, I had started to process my experience, and I was ready to share my beautiful baby (if only for a few minutes here and there).
That was my first babymoon. Accidental (but not really). Completely necessary.
After this birth I became very interested in birth, and decided to become a doula to offer support to mothers through this crucial time in her life. A birth experience is so fundamental to how a woman views herself, that I really felt a calling to help women have the most empowered birth that they can.
My second birth was vastly different. Through my studies to be a doula I found myself growing, transforming and trusting my body. I decided to have a home birth, surrounded by people I trusted. The birth was beautiful, I wouldn’t change anything about it at all.
Despite the fact that I had been told I would never be able to have a vaginal birth again, I trusted my body, and trusted that I could do it. I birthed a 5kg (10lb 10oz) baby girl in water with no tearing at all.
I had a blissful couple of days with my new giant baby, unfortunately though on the second day my babymoon was interrupted by circumstances beyond our control, she ended up in hospital filled with IV tubes, under a UV lamp (all later found to be unnecessary) for 3 days. Again, I found myself in tears, stressed more than I had every been in my life, unable to sleep, caring for a child that screamed non-stop every time she woke up, and only every sleeping for 15-20minutes at a time.
Needless to say I really needed the space when we got home, I didn’t need to be invaded, to put on a happy smiley face when all I wanted to do was cry.
Again, my babymoon was necessary to allow me to process what had happened. A sacred time in my own growth, and the bonding with my baby after what was a very traumatic experience for both of us.
The birth of my youngest was something else.
Again, another homebirth.
This time everything really did go as planned.
After a very quick birth (just short of 2hrs from first contraction to birth, again with no tearing) at 6am, by 9am the older kids (who had been present at the birth) went off to daycare, everyone else who was present went about their day as normal. I was blissfully tucked into bed, allowed to adore my beautiful baby boy while my partner gave me space to just be.
I am blessed, my partner for the first week ran the house entirely- cooked all the food, looked after the older kids, did all the cleaning/washing etc. I was given space to stay in bed, focus on my baby, and allow my body to recover and heal after the birth.
The point of all of these stories? (Other than gushing over gorgeous newborn photos)
You don’t have to have the perfect birth to have a babymoon.
You don’t have to have a hideously traumatic birth to have a babymoon.
But you know what? Everyone deserves a babymoon.
You can’t get that time back after it is gone. No matter how your birth goes, I can pretty much guarantee that you will want time for you to meet your new baby, for you to get to know who they are- uninterrupted, to process your birthing experience, and for you to explore the new dynamic a baby has brought to your family.
A babymoon doesn’t have to be weeks long, though I would strongly recommend at least 3-4 days of staying in bed, only getting out to shower or go to the bathroom.
Give yourself space, give your baby space (imagine how overwhelming it must be for them to be passed around all your visitors with new smells and sensory overload), but most of all allow yourself permission to just BE with your new baby, in your new family- without distraction.
Talk to your family and friends, let them know what you are planning, so that when your baby is born they know what to expect. Make sure they understand that when they visit, your baby is the priority, you may stay in bed for the duration of their visit- and that’s ok.
Let them know it may be hours or a couple of days before you are willing to share the news of your babies arrival. It isn’t personal, it is your right as a parent. It is your first duty- to put your babies needs first. Your baby needs the time to learn to recognise your smell, your feel, your rhythm, to learn to feed. Your baby needs YOU, and you… alone.