07/26/2025
I dream of a supported postpartum for all who have just given birth:
Communities gathering around new families (whether first baby or baby number 8) in the first few months of this life shift.
Families, friends, neighbors:
Doing laundry. Mopping floors. Occupying older siblings, so rest can be had. Bringing warm nutrient dense meals so they are fed and deeply nourished. Doing nap rotations. Supporting a mother in all the ways so deeply needed in this sacred and sometimes difficult time of her life.
In our society, the focus usually shifts almost entirely to the newborn, once the baby is born, and the mother is expected to bounce back, be strong, smile, cope, and somehow figure it all out — often in isolation. Postpartum requires care, patience, and deep nurturing. And yet so many are left to navigate it alone. Why are Mothers being left alone to handle and navigate this alone?
Where is the village? Where is the softness, the slowness, the support we deserve in those first raw weeks and months?
The way we show up for mothers after birth shapes how they heal, how they bond with their new baby, within their changing family, and how they carry themselves into this new chapter of life.
Postpartum depression often speaks to deeper needs that haven’t been met. After birth, a mother is in a sacred and vulnerable transition: When her body is depleted from the swift transition of pregnancy to postpartum, when she carries the weight of the home without support, and when sleep becomes scarce, her spirit wearies. This is not weakness—it’s a whisper for care. The postpartum time is meant to be one of deep nourishment, soft landings, and tender holding. When we honor the mother with warmth, rest, and nourishment, we create space for healing, for joy to stay constant, and for her light to rise
