“I miss the newborn baby I never got to know or enjoy.” Sharing my own vulnerability.

In the whirlwind of welcoming a new life into the world, there are moments we anticipate with joy and excitement, but there are also unexpected challenges that can leave us feeling raw and vulnerable. Today, I want to open up and share a deeply personal aspect of our postnatal journey—a journey marked by longing and resilience, by hope and heartache.

On a hospital bed, in a waiting room, trying desperately to breastfeed (but I could only master the side lying position)

It began with a medical procedure—a tongue tie division for our newborn daughter at just three days old. Yet, what we were told was a straightforward intervention turned into a series of miscommunications and oversights. Left in the dark about aftercare and support, my partner and I found ourselves grappling with uncertainty and doubt from the very beginning.

Breastfeeding, a journey I had eagerly anticipated (and thought would ‘just come naturally’, became a battleground of conflicting advice and unmet expectations. Instead of the nurturing bond I had envisioned, we found ourselves following rigid feeding plans forced upon us that seemed to strip away our connection and intuition. Desperation clouded our judgment as we sought solutions, ultimately leading to a second tongue tie division in hopes of salvaging our breastfeeding journey.

Weeks turned into months of relentless appointments and consultations, each promising a solution yet leaving us feeling more lost and disillusioned than before. The toll on our daughter's physical and emotional well-being weighed heavily on my heart, as I grappled with doubts and regrets about the decisions we had made.

But amidst the turmoil, there was a quiet acknowledgment of grief—a recognition of the moments we had missed, the joy that had been overshadowed by pain and uncertainty. Becky from Witty Otter talked recently on her instagram about missing the newborn baby she never got to know or enjoy (in her story, because of postnatal depression), I too found myself mourning the newborn experience I had imagined but never fully embraced. The innocence and wonder of those early days felt distant, replaced by a sense of longing and loss.

A typical postnatal day, pumping at breakfast with engorged breasts (I wish I’d known then what I know now and how the two things are so interlinked), belly still swollen.

Yet, through it all, there was resilience—a steadfast determination to find healing and solace in the midst of chaos. Therapy and kinesiology became lifelines, offering glimpses of hope and restoration in moments of darkness. And in those moments of vulnerability, I found strength in connecting with other mothers who shared similar struggles, offering support and understanding in a journey marked by uncertainty.

To any mother navigating similar challenges, I want you to know that you are seen and heard. Your journey, though fraught with obstacles, is a testament to your resilience and love. Reach out, seek support, and know that you are not alone in your struggles. Together, we can find solace and healing in the shared experience of motherhood, embracing both the joy and the pain (often not talked about) that comes with nurturing new life into the world.

If you find yourself in need of support, please don't hesitate to reach out. Your journey matters, and you deserve compassion and understanding every step of the way.

In May, I will be running a workshop with Perinatal Psychiatrist and co-founder of Make Birth Better, Dr Rebecca Moore, entitled ‘HEAL’. Sign up to my newsletter below to be the first to get the details.