There is a rawness, a joy, and a special light about the postpartum period. Those six weeks after your baby arrives feel like a veil has been lifted between you and the universe…you have welcomed a new soul onto this planet we call Earth. When you stare into a newborns eyes or sleeping face, you witness God. But postpartum is isolating, and can have moments of dark shadow, even in the brightest light.
We don’t support mothers during postpartum in our modern culture. We have no circle of women to support us. No warm meals, soft blankets and weeks of bed rest to depend on. Often we are left alone. We usually have coping techniques when we feel overwhelmed or isolated— Sleep. Yoga. Wine with close friends. But in the early days after baby is born, these life lines are not always available to us.
For the first time, mothers sit. We sit with who we really are, without a job title, or spreadsheet to work on. The adult conversation turns to deafening silence, punctuated with an occasional small cry, from a small human who needs it’s basic needs met. We sit with the commutes, and the working lunches, and the outside roles stripped away, and are left with only our true selves. And it can feel scary and jarring to be so quiet.
While we may not be able to make it to a yoga class, we can call on that pranayama, or breath control. Sitting up tall with your baby, you can feel your seat ground and your heart lift. Beginning to just observe the breath, notice where it lands. Try to draw it deeper, as the jaw and shoulders relax. Soon, we find ourselves. As we find our presence in the moment, through our breath, we can sit in this postpartum role more comfortably. We can see the beauty in this stage. We can realize that we alone are enough, and caring for a new soul is certainly a role just as important as any CEO.
As we become present, still, and accepting, we can let the light into this shaky time. We can see the blessing of quiet and solitude. We can sit with a new soul, and provide it the space to blossom and shine. That is the deepest act of service.