Grief in Early Parenthood

Early parenthood has grief and loss written between every line of celebration and joy. The flip side of any additive experience is letting go and loss. 

Grief presents in many ways in early parenthood. Grief is in the frustration for what we cannot accomplish or access in our minds or motives. It’s in the fear about the unknown next version of ourselves, the ache to know what will become of us and who we will be on the other side. It’s in the resistance to and denial of change. It’s in the resentment we feel toward those whose lives are less or differently altered. …

Grief in early parenthood is also about the passage of time and the inevitable losses that come with moving through our finite lives.

Grief isn’t only felt by parents, of course. In the social matrix, many people may feel and express grief when a baby enters, alongside joy and celebration. 

I was sitting once with three generations of a family: a new baby, his mom and the new mom’s mom. We were talking about a particular way this new family was nurturing their relationship with their baby. It was a celebratory and sweet moment. I noticed tears in the grandmother’s eyes. This moment of appreciation for this new family’s vision and approach was crystalizing her realization that her own opportunity to parent very young children was long behind her. She felt grief for a door closed and an opportunity that could no longer exist. She had completed that part of her life and saw that she couldn’t go back to change what was.

In moments of opportunity, when what is ahead of us appears wide open and within our influence, there is hope and anticipation and vision. (There is also fear and worry and the weight of responsibility.) 

When our work is done we might feel relief, pride, wonder, awe.

We may also feel grief at the loss of possibility and regret at the known and unknowable results of actions we took. This is the natural order of things, of life, of action. We don’t stay in possibility and potential forever. 

When we do find ourselves in possibility and potential, we can pause to note the weight of the moment, the pressure and pleasure and promise. And as soon as we step into the reality of the unfolding, we are susceptible to grief. 

We express grief in weird ways as a result of cultural and personal resistance and discomfort. 

We misdirect our grief when we attach our own experiences to others’, when their opportunity becomes a blank slate for us to write our lessons and regrets on. 

Or when others' hopeful and fresh approach meets our cynicism: “oh just wait” or “that won’t work” or “that’s unrealistic.” 

We are missing grief’s cue when we feel threatened or criticized by someone’s choice to do something differently than we have or would.

How to sit with grief in order to live most fully inside our lives? I think this must be so individual.

I aim to honor my grief as real and reasonable. 

When I’m willing to touch into “what could have been” and appreciate it as an illusion (reality is always more complex), that’s a good start for me. 

When I can appreciate the accumulation of my imperfect actions and decisions as an act of creation, that helps a lot. 

When I can appreciate that pure potential is a rare and passing opportunity and that the true flavor of life I seek is authentic expression of my (complex and flawed) self, that’s the ultimate salve.

What about you?

Could Deep Feeling Serve an Important Purpose?

Our emotional lives are especially vibrant, textured and powerful in the postpartum time. We generally understand why: major hormonal, neurological and lifestyle shifts are all happening at the same time. We find ourselves caring around the clock for a new person whose well being we’re deeply invested in.

Many of us also experience more stillness and simplicity through early parenthood, which offers an opportunity to feel more. When busy-ness drops out, there is space and time for feeling our lives more, for more awareness of what it’s like to be in our life. 

It is becoming more widely understood that the postpartum hormonal and neurological metamorphosis is as potent as adolescence.

It is uncomfortable to change as much and as quickly as we do in the biological transition to parenthood that birth parents face! (Parents who don’t birth a child also undergo neurological and hormonal change, but the change is often stronger and more immediate in the birth parent and so my motivation for writing this is the biological post-birth experience.)

What if instead of dreading the intense emotionality of postpartum we tried to imagine its purpose?

Elephants sense vibration through their feet. Migrating birds and sea turtles feel the Earth’s magnetic field. Rattlesnakes essentially see their prey’s body heat.

Postpartum birth parents feel emotions intensely. It is a time of heightened sensitivity because of what emotions are and because of what the postpartum time means.

Our emotions make meaning out of our experience of our environment and organize our response pattern. We feel in order to be motivated to create or seek safety.

Following the birth of a baby we have an incredible responsibility to the species and need to keep ourselves and our offspring in maximum safety. 

Martha Nussbaum teaches us that emotions are also "intelligent responses to the perception of value.”

Beyond survival it’s in the interest of our children and ourselves to be acutely in touch with what we value. We (and therefore our offspring) naturally turn toward what we value and away from what we don’t.

Deep feeling is our personal and collective compass and map, showing us what we value and need. 

Parenting is Paying Forward

“Pay it forward” means to repay the benefits of what we’ve received to someone other than the source of those gifts. Raising children is a quintessential illustration of paying forward.

We give our love, care and earned wisdom to the next generation so they may give to those whose lives they touch. We are giving to the children we care for and we are giving to our communities, society, humanity.

We have what we have to give because of what we have received. We will continue to give and we will continue to receive.

How our energy is organized around receiving matters. But we’re not taught to consider this a worthy practice and many of us resist receiving, in some ways we’re familiar with and some that are invisible to us.

If you’d like to begin to cultivate your own ability to receive, regularly pause to take in your environment through your senses. Receive compliments, favors and gifts with simplicity (and feel the feelings that come when you do).

The (extremely important and resource and time consuming) process of raising children can be a little more easeful when we remember that we’re engaged in a cycle of reciprocity with generations before and after us, with our communities and humanity as a whole.

Recovery is the Baseline

Postpartum recovery is a concept most people can grasp: One person stretched to contain another whole person as they grew from virtually nothing into many pounds of tangible somethingness, using material from the grown person's human tissue to make new, sweet, delightful, human tissue. Then, a portal was created for the new person to exit. A whole lot of energy was used to make that exit possible and to return the birthing body to its most basic, essential state of homeostasis. It makes sense that all of that output would require a period of recovery and protection.

The postpartum time is a time of recovery and what happens in that time is more than recovery.

To recover is to bring something back, to return to a previous state. Of course it’s true that through rest, nourishment and time we recover the strength we need to carry our bodies through activities that weren’t possible in pregnancy and the first weeks postpartum.

If we bring the whole person into view, postpartum changes are for bringing forth, not back. Postpartum is a developmental stage, an opportunity for transformation and personal evolution. As we step into parenting, co-creating the future with and for its stewards and heirs, it is necessary to become a next version of ourselves.

Our physiology makes the growth inevitable. Our response to the transformation is a place of agency and choice. How do we react to the feelings those changes stir in us? How do we think of ourselves or our loved ones through the process of change?

If we only think of muscles, tendons, ligaments, we may clearly see a desire to go back: to the familiar, to the capabilities and capacities that we identify with. What we can do and like to do is a big part of how we experience our identity and project it into relationship with others.

The transformative potential of the postpartum time is in growth of particular areas of our brains, supported by hormones and other brain chemicals.

After pregnancy, we get new grey matter in regions of the brain associated with parental behavior. Grey matter is basically raw material for new ways of thinking and being in the world.

Opportunities for new grey matter come when we need to meet life with new capacity, when big changes are afoot: childhood, adolescence, during and after pregnancy. (Doesn’t that alone speak volumes?!)

After birth, new grey matter shows up in the reward and motivation circuit, the emotional regulation circuit, and social information circuit. Each of these is supportive to parenting and personal transformation.

New grey matter in our reward and motivation circuit changes what animates us, what gets us out of bed and focused on the tasks that lead us toward our goals. Change in this area can feel as if the foundation of our identity is shifting, a scary prospect and a deeply uncomfortable experience for many.

New growth in our emotional regulation circuit may change our temperament, what we react to and how, which is also related to our identity and how we and others know us to be.

When our social information circuit is enhanced, we’re likely to be more sensitive to information about other humans. We may find ourselves more perceptive to the emotions and needs of others. We may also tap these enhanced perceptive abilities to better understand our own needs and emotions.

It’s important to know that zipping through our days on our myelinated superhighways of automatic thinking and doing is way more comfortable than using the new neurons that create new capacity. Change is uncomfortable because our brains make it so. Our brains prefer that which is known.

The postpartum brain is not a comfortable place to be. But the uncomfortable growth process does have an important purpose and the discomfort of change doesn’t last forever, though its affects do. 

Knowing this as a birth parent relieves and prevents suffering by orienting our view of ourselves toward growth and new natural abilities.

Understanding this as a partner or other member of the postpartum support team, including the community at large, helps us see changes in a postpartum person with wonder and appreciation and allows us to hold space for the emergence of new traits and strengths. 

It is in the interest of everyone on the planet for changes in a postpartum parent to be embraced and nurtured. We evolve individually and collectively when we let nature lead us toward thriving. 

Normalizing postpartum as a time of moody, forgetful, tired, anxious neediness is harmful. It is so much more than that, but how would we know? Can we change the narrative one conversation, one gesture, one comment, one image at a time? I truly think we can.

Dopamine in the Postpartum Brain

Dopamine works differently in the postpartum brain.

Normally, dopamine gives us energy for activities that promote our individual survival: gathering a meal, securing a paycheck, pursuing a goal, etc. We get a good feeling and the energy we need to keep moving toward something worth pursuing.

In early parenthood, we experience the effect of dopamine when we think about or are in contact with our children. Our babies become rewarding because our physiology is interested in the survival of our offspring, the carriers of our DNA.

We are more than the individual we once were and our brain chemicals know it!

(Thank goodness for the surges of dopamine energy that get us up in the middle of the night to care for our babies!)

In the postpartum time, oxytocin rewards us for having our needs met by our trusting and trustworthy community. When we connect to and allow our needs to be met by others, we get the warmth and relaxation of oxytocin.

Let your brain chemicals lead you toward thriving. You will think your baby is the cutest and most important being on the planet and that will give you energy for the job. Don't fight or dismiss that thought; use it instead.

When the dopamine-hungry ghosts come calling, trying to convince you to get up out of bed and provide for yourself, know their source and come back to your body and your support system. Allow others to care for and nurture you and you will have the oxytocin you need for bonding with and feeding your baby and for healing.

It's Not "Help" You're Receiving

I think “help” is not the best word we have for what we offer a postpartum family in the form of meals, errands, chores, etc. I was calling it help, but that word was bugging me and I realized why.

When we help someone, the original objective is theirs and the ultimate benefit is theirs. You might help me think through a problem or I could help you move. We would be lending our mental or physical power to each other’s projects. 

The benefits of having babies and children among us does not lie solely within the parents’ arena. Far from it! What if we considered the meals we deliver and the tasks we relieve new parents of contributions to the labor and resource intensive act of raising children, not to be repaid, but already in process of being paid forward? We all reap the rewards of having the freshest humans cared for by nourished and resourced adults. 

I think families on the receiving end of postpartum support will benefit most from this reframe. Those who tend to the needs of a postpartum family generally know they’re offering community care for a shared long term goal. The load of caring for our young is not meant to be carried by one or two adults. Calling our contributions “help” doesn’t make that clear and might have a weary new family resisting the gifts of their community.

We need and want new people, for what they will create and for what they mean to us. Those who protect and nurture new members of our families and communities receive appropriate care and offerings of gratitude, not help.

A Greater Vision of New Parenthood

What if we crowded out the prevailing narrative of new parenthood as all sleep deprivation and epic sacrifice with a new (and timeless) narrative of parenthood as personal evolution and growth?

What if the collective energy we spend warning expectant parents about what’s to come was instead spent helping them prepare for and optimize the experience of stepping outside culturally created expectations of continuous sleep and consumable product generation? 

We can explore other realities and evaluate our priorities when we step out of a previously accepted way of life (as we are learning by navigating a global pandemic). Early parenthood requires us to be flexible with our expectations of ourselves and others, forcing us to relinquish some control and cultivate creativity and authentic responsiveness. We can give ourselves and each other grace while protecting and nurturing new life. (Grace at a minimum; ideally we would exalt the work of caretaking!) Taking responsibility for a young heart-mind-body-spirit around the clock brings us face to face with our deepest values. It can feel like being broken down, but I believe the process is also making space for a stronger and more authentic person to emerge. If parents were anticipating transformation and epic changes in their relationship to work, other priorities, other people, and themselves, society would have to accommodate the expectations and demands of parents instead of the other way around. It could be seismic and beautiful. 

Of course it would help if paid leave was sufficient and universal and the messages we got about parenting reflected the deep work of it.

Beyond paid leave from the workplace, what if we were monetarily rewarded for our generous contribution to society?

There’s structural work to do, for sure. But small shifts in attitude also count and have power as they accumulate. We need change from all directions. Inside ourselves is a good place to start.

When Visiting a Newly Postpartum Family...

Yes, bring something beautiful for their space or nourishing for their bodies!

Yes, plan to do something to help (walk a dog, do some dishes, fold laundry, chop vegetables, make tea, water plants…)

If you remember those bits, you’ll be a wonderful gift to the family.

To make the A list, do a little something ahead of time to settle your system. Arrive with room in yourself to meet messiness and big feelings. Remember that the person who birthed the baby has been on a soul’s journey. Remember that the adults in the family are working to nurture a very impressionable member of the next generation around the clock. Remember that the energy within and between all members of the family has been radically reorganized. They may look remarkably similar to the people you knew before, but they are deeply altered. Receive them, hold them, and, if it feels authentic, reflect the alchemy you see and feel in their company. 

"Mom Brain"

“Mom brain” would have a different ring if we appreciated what is really happening. Our brains shrink slightly (about 5 percent) in pregnancy, as a new brain is built from scratch. Nature invests in the next generation. After birth, new gray matter grows in regions of the brain associated with parental traits, bringing more ease to bonding with, understanding, and protecting our babies and regulating our emotions. Mental acuity is (temporarily) exchanged for a set of essential skills in a particularly tender time. May all mothers have this reflected to them when they’re feeling disoriented, ineffective, droopy, flawed… Mom brain is a gift of nature, a gift from one generation to another. We are more than whole.

Microdosing the Pleasure of Getting Things Done

I love the feeling of getting something done. It has a particular physical buzz: lightness in the top of my head, clarity in my spine, fullness and strength in my arms. I feel it now as I write. Evidence of someone reading this piece will initiate a fluttering in my whole body, like butterflies and currents of energy. When I’m getting something worldly done I feel the container of my body. I feel a sense of rhythm, an experience of my self in time that I enjoy. It’s grounding.

Yesterday I came to my senses while deleting emails on my phone. I have thousands of unread messages, infinite satisfaction producing material. Somehow each delete gives me a tiny rush. I looked down to find my 6 month old staring at me from her carrier, adoring me, studying me, appreciating me. Feeling me. 

When I gaze at my children, or watch them play, or listen to the ever changing quality of their voices, or feel the growing substance of their bodies, I feel boundless, an expanse of energy that is slow moving and thick. The lone rhythm is a sweet clear tick in my chest. My flesh is soft and softening. My feet feel dense and my skin feels thin, but strong and stretchy. The satisfaction is deep and I’m insatiable. 

If you like how it feels to get things done, study that feeling. Learn how to let it in in small doses. You don’t need a reminder to find pleasure in the details of your babies and children, but know that the satisfaction may resonate differently from that of your day to day or your life before children. The reward systems are on a different timeline. It’s all available to you, to enhance your days and your life. May you deepen your capacity for pleasure in all its forms and frequencies. 

Tell Your Midwife or Doctor Why You Chose Them

Did you interview prospective care providers before choosing one whose philosophy of care is enough in line with yours that you feel comfortable (or better yet, excited) moving forward? Did you click with the first person you met? What if you shared with your chosen midwife or doctor what it was that helped you choose them?

Was it that they

• Listened to your whole story and answered all of your questions?

• Have a low cesarean rate, a high VBAC success rate, or some other meaningful statistic?

• Were your friend’s doctor and she received respectful and kind care?

• Cared for you through a difficult medical procedure and helped you feel safe?

• Demonstrated cultural competence in some way that is meaningful to you?

• Proactively mentioned empowering yourself by hiring a doula or taking a childbirth education course?

It is important for them to know what you care about.

It is good for them to have their strengths reflected back to them.

If there is an expectation that they need to clarify, you can offer the opportunity.

It is good for you and your team to be clear on why you like this person.

You could say this once or you could say it every time you see them. You have made a decision that will impact the rest of your pregnancy, your birth, and your postpartum experience in important ways. Give yourself credit for doing your research and give them credit for being the excellent care provider that you are placing your trust in. You and they deserve it!