Postpartum Wishes

When people talk about welcoming a new baby, they talk about the baby.

They talk about the birth.
The name.
The tiny clothes.
The first smiles.
The sleepy snuggles.

But what we don't talk about enough is you.

The person who just gave birth.
The one healing physically and emotionally.
The one holding a whole new identity in their arms—and trying to figure out how to hold themselves, too.

As someone who walks alongside new families every day, I want to take a moment to pause and send a few wishes your way. Not advice. Not pressure. Just some heartfelt reminders for this tender, transformative time we call the postpartum season.

I wish you time to rest—real rest.

Not just a nap squeezed in between feedings (though I hope you get one of those, too). I mean the kind of rest that acknowledges you just did something extraordinary. You carried and delivered a human. Your body is recovering, your hormones are shifting, and your nervous system is doing somersaults trying to keep up.

You don’t need to “bounce back.” There’s no prize for doing it all. You are allowed to slow down. In fact, you’re meant to.

Let the dishes wait. Let others help. Let your only job today be to nourish your baby, your body, and your spirit.

I wish you support that feels like support.

You deserve people in your corner who see you—not just your baby. People who ask how you’re sleeping, how your heart is, how your healing is going. People who drop off food without expecting a chat. People who listen without trying to fix it all.

And when you need professional support—whether it’s a lactation consultant, postpartum doula, therapist, or sleep coach—I hope you feel confident asking. You are not weak for needing help. You are wise.

I wish you the ability to take care of yourself, even in small ways.

A hot shower. A nourishing snack. Ten quiet minutes to breathe. These things may feel impossibly hard to reach in the early days, but they matter more than you think. You are still a person with needs, and those needs don’t go away just because someone smaller is now calling the shots.

You don’t have to be the only one sacrificing. Let someone else hold the baby while you hold yourself.

I wish you freedom from comparison.

You’ve probably already noticed: everyone has a story, an opinion, or a social media post about how postpartum should look. You may find yourself wondering if you’re doing it “right.”

But here's the truth: there is no one right way. There’s only your way.

If your baby is fed and loved, and you’re doing your best to stay afloat—that’s enough.
Whether you’re breastfeeding or formula-feeding, co-sleeping or crib-sleeping, babywearing or taking breaks—what matters most is that it’s working for you.

I wish you compassion for yourself.

Postpartum is a mix of love and loss. You're meeting your baby, but you're also meeting a new version of yourself. There will be joy—and there will also be grief for the life you left behind.

That doesn’t make you ungrateful. It makes you human.

Speak to yourself the way you’d speak to a friend. With grace. With gentleness. With patience. You’re learning. You’re healing. You’re becoming.

You are just as important as your baby.

Let me say that again, because it matters:

You are just as important as your baby.

Your well-being matters. Your mental health matters. Your needs, your voice, your identity—they matter deeply.

And while it may feel like everything is about survival right now, this season won’t last forever. There is a version of life coming where you will feel like yourself again. Maybe not the same self—but a fuller, wiser, more resilient one.

Until then, I’m here. To remind you that you’re not alone. To help you navigate the hard days. And to make sure you never feel like you have to do it all without someone in your corner.

From my heart to yours,
💛
Here’s to a postpartum season that sees you, honors you, and holds space for everything you are becoming.