I’m writing this 9 months postpartum, sitting with the reality that I have had my last baby.
That sentence alone brings up everything. Joy, gratitude, relief, grief, pride, wonder, and something I can only describe as profound bittersweetness. This chapter of my life, the one where my body grew and birthed humans, is complete. I will be sitting with this for a while.
This Birth Was Different
My first birth was in the US. You go in blind. Well, they try to tell you. But you don’t know, you know. So there’s that. The second time for me of course, in the UK. Completely different. Labor is it’s own thing for everyone, every time. I wasn’t surprised but it was interesting to be able to compare and contrast. My first daughter went with the flow. My second made the demands I had to follow. It’s hard to discuss, hard to name what stood out most. There almost are no words even for wordy me to capture and articulate the experiences. Both times eventually, I felt powerful. Eventually I felt present. I felt like I knew exactly what my body was doing, even in the intensity of it all.
The Work Actually Worked
Here’s something I’m genuinely proud of, and I’m going to own it without apology: I recovered incredibly well this second time around. Within weeks, in fact. I know that sounds like toxic wellness culture bullshit. It’s not.
For my entire second pregnancy, I showed up for my body. I had a personal trainer throughout pregnancy. My yoga practice that I’ve maintained for 20 years. Breathwork that became second nature. Pelvic floor awareness. All of it. And it worked. I had my mum here with me. I went to bed when I needed to. I ate well. I loved on myself and took care to be mindful of my energy.
I’m not sharing this to make anyone feel bad or to suggest there’s a “right way” to recover. Recovery timelines are individual, influenced by a thousand factors beyond our control like birth circumstances, genetics, support systems, complications, prior injuries, and so much more. But I am sharing it because I spent years preparing my body for this, and I want other women to know: the work matters. The preparation matters. Your body’s ability to do hard things can be trained and supported.
If you’ve been showing up for your body through yoga, strength training, breathwork, or any other practice, it’s not wasted effort. It might not guarantee a certain outcome, but it’s in your corner when you need it.
What Amazed Me Most
What keeps hitting me is what women’s bodies can do. We grow entire humans. We birth them through whatever means necessary. We heal. We feed them (or we don’t, and that’s fine too). We keep functioning on no sleep. We do impossible things and call it Tuesday. I feel so much reverence for this capacity. And so much grief that this capacity in my own body is done now.
The Bittersweet Truth
This was my last pregnancy. My last birth. My last time feeling a baby move inside me. And I LOVED being pregnant it was a challenging yet beautiful chapter, and experience, each time. I’m genuinely happy with two children. I’m blessed beyond belief. I’m wrapping my head around my age, my relationship, my family as it stands.
And I’m sad.
Both things are true.
I can be grieving: the end of this chapter, the identity shift, processing the change from girl to woman to mom to…what the future holds. What I don’t know. Where the path leads now. Matresence. (Menopause??!!?)
I don’t think we talk enough about how endings can be both accepted and mourned.
Processing and Integration
I created three resources for myself to help process this transition, and I’m sharing them because I think other women might need them too:
Your Birth Story Journal Guide - A gentle framework for processing and recording your birth experience, however it went. Not the Instagram version. The real one.
Closing the Chapter Ceremony - A ritual for honoring your final pregnancy and birth, and consciously stepping into your next chapter. For when you’re ready to mark this profound transition.
The Newborn Bubble Guide - What actually matters in the fourth trimester, and what can wait. Everything I wish someone had told me with my first.
These aren’t generic wellness downloads. These came directly from my own need to make sense of this experience, honor what it means, and process what I’m feeling.
What I Want You to Know
If you’re in the newborn bubble right now, wherever you are in your recovery, however your birth went:
Your experience matters. Your feelings about it matter. Your timeline is the right one.
If your birth was hard and recovery is slow that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. If your birth was beautiful and recovery is fast, you’re allowed to celebrate that without guilt. If you’re somewhere in between, welcome to the majority.
There’s no one right way through this.
What I do know is this: preparation supports your body without guaranteeing outcomes. Community helps you feel less alone. Honest conversation beats toxic positivity every time. And giving yourself space to process your experience (whatever it was) is essential.
Moving Forward
I’m stepping into this next chapter as a mother of two, closing the door on childbearing, and figuring out who I am now.
I don’t have it all figured out. I’m tired, adjusting, processing, grateful, overwhelmed, curious, it’s all true.
I know this transition deserves to be marked, not just survived.
These resources exist because I needed them. I’m sharing them in case you do too.
If you’re processing your own birth experience or navigating the closing of your childbearing years, these guides are here for you. Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t, and give yourself all the time and grace you need.
I share my personal experiences not as prescriptive advice, but as one woman’s honest journey through pregnancy, birth, and postpartum. Your experience is your own, and comparison serves no one. If you’re struggling, please reach out to your healthcare provider or a mental health professional who specializes in perinatal care.
