Tag: day six postpartum

Day Six Postpartum: She Woke Up and Chose Snacks

MiriamLeave a comment

I’m still bleeding, still crying, still madly in love… but now I also have snacks in every room.

Welcome to Day Six. I’ve officially entered what I like to call the “semi-feral nesting” phase of postpartum. I no longer care what time it is, what I look like, or how many breast pads I’ve dropped under the couch — as long as the baby’s fed and I have one hand free for a granola bar, I’m thriving. Sort of.

I’m no longer surprised when I cry for no reason. Or when I cry for very good reasons. Or when I cry just because someone asked how I’m feeling. (Don’t. Just don’t.)

Let’s talk about Day Six — it’s a weird one. Not quite newborn-foggy, not yet functional. It’s like being halfway through a movie you didn’t choose but you’re deeply emotionally invested in.

1. I Made a Snack Nest

I’ve given up on traditional meals. I now eat like a raccoon trapped in a laundry room: cereal out of a coffee mug, cold toast, one lonely slice of cheese, a protein bar I found in my hospital bag, and some blueberries I dropped into my bra earlier that I’m now just calling garnish.

I have a full snack station on the nightstand, one on the bathroom sink, and one in the nursery glider. I might turn them into Yelp-verified food trucks if this whole “raising a human” thing doesn’t work out.

2. My Baby Is Smiling (Probably Gas, But Let Me Have This)

This morning, my baby made a face that looked like a smile. Sure, he was actively pooping, and yes, it could have been a digestive illusion — but it was beautiful. I sobbed like I’d just witnessed a double rainbow.

He’s also started making eye contact. Brief, wobbly eye contact like a tiny drunk uncle, but still. It feels like we’re starting to get to know each other.

I keep saying “hi” to him like we’re on our first awkward date. He blinks. I narrate everything I do in a high-pitched, sleep-deprived voice. We’re bonding. Or trauma-sharing. Either way, I’m obsessed.

3. The Tears Came in a New Flavor: Gratitude + Terror

I cried this morning because I’m so grateful. And so scared. And so tired. And so proud of myself.

I watched my baby sleep and thought: He’s mine. I made him. He’s here. And I’m doing it.

Then I thought: What if I mess it all up? What if I don’t do it right? What if he never sleeps without laying on top of me and I live like this forever and forget how to use both arms?

I went from angelic joy to existential dread in 0.3 seconds. A new record.

But I’m learning: it’s normal. It’s Day Six. Your brain is soup. Your hormones are renegade raccoons. Your love is deeper than ever, and your fear is just proof that you care.

4. My Body Is… Honestly, Kind of a Champion

I still have a belly, a line down the middle of it, and a belly button that looks slightly offended. I still move like a wounded sea lion when I get up too fast. But guess what? My body is feeding a human. My body made a heart. My body is holding the line. And I’m starting to love it for what it can do — not just what it looks like.

I even did a stretch today. One. It took everything in me. But I did it. Then I lay on the floor next to the baby and we just stared at each other like we were recovering from the same war. Because we were.

5. My Partner Is Learning the Sounds

We had a big moment today: my partner correctly identified the difference between the baby’s I’m Hungry cry and his My Sock Fell Off and I’m Betrayed cry. I have never loved him more.

He also folded laundry today, then stood in front of me and said, “I don’t know where any of these tiny clothes go.” Same, man. Nobody does. Just put them in a drawer and let the chaos win.

We’re learning together. We’re fumbling. But we’re in sync in a new, strange way. Less sexy, more survival-focused. Still beautiful.

6. I Smelled My Own Armpit and Wasn’t Horrified

Somewhere along the way, I stopped expecting freshness. I’ve lowered the bar and raised my self-respect. Showered? Amazing. Deodorant and a clean nursing bra? That’s the Met Gala. But even without all that, I’m showing up. Every moment. For every feed, every diaper, every cry, every cuddle.

And honestly, the baby doesn’t care if I smell like lavender or if I’ve been marinating in breast milk and Oreos. To him, I’m safety. I’m home.

Final Thoughts: Day Six Is Soft Power

I used to think power was loud. Fierce. Polished. Now I know it’s in the quiet things:

  • Feeding a baby at 3am when your eyes won’t stay open
  • Answering one more cry even when you just sat down
  • Choosing to love yourself in sweatpants with leaky boobs and stretch marks

Day Six isn’t glamorous. It’s crumb-filled and tear-streaked. But it’s full of courage. It’s full of heart. It’s where the softness becomes strength and the chaos becomes love.

To the Day Six mamas out there: you are doing the most important work. Even if no one sees it. Even if no one claps. Even if the only praise you get today is a silent moment when the baby finally falls asleep and sighs that little sigh of trust. That is everything. And so are you. 💗🍼🥨