Traveling with Babies and Children, or: Katie’s Ridiculously OCD Packing List

Okay, so by request, I am posting my overly obsessive compulsive packing list.  After a few near disasters (forgetting the binky at a friend’s wedding with our 10 week old, forgetting the car seat on a plane trip, forgetting to pack underwear for myself)  I created this list.  Please modify it as you see fit for your trips.  And please don’t judge my control-freak nature.

Here are a few of our favorite travel tips as well:

1.  When boarding an airplane, have your partner get on first, wipe down the area with clorox wipes, every inch.  Remember, your child will touch everything and then put fingers in their mouths.

2. Offer to buy the people next to you a drink on the airplane.  They may not take you up on it, but they will appreciate the gesture

3.  Prepare your children for whatever style of travel you will be doing.  If they are older tell them stories about the travel leading up to the day.

4. for road-trips, use rest ares.  Let your little ones run around.  Add enough time that you’re not in a rush.   For every four hours of expected drive time, add at least an hour per child over one years old for random ‘stuff’  and two hours per baby.

5.  Remember the boy scouts motto:  BE PREPARED.  And for parents, this is no joke.

6.  Remember also, there are no vacations, only Trips.  Change your expectation from relaxation to adventure.  You are taking this difficult care giving routine on the road.  It may not be easy, and there will be breakdowns.

7.  Enjoy the ride…

KATE’S GRAND PACKING LIST

Before leaving the house:
Empty trash
Turn off wipe warmer
Empty diaper pail
Fill kitty dish and water fountain

Travel Time:

In the Car:

Mobile Mobile:  An amazing contraption that attaches to anything, and sings a super annoying song while bugs move around in a circle. Saved us on a road trip through Montana
Diaper bag
ergo carrier
blanket
Your child’s backpack (with lovey inside, stocked with age appropriate toys)
iPhone apps
toys
lunch and snacks that are not a complete mess (avoid the freeze dried raspberries in a bag. disaster)
books
books on tape
older kiddoes love a DVD player

For Airplane travel:

Clorox Wipes

many of the above items from the road trip list for entertainment (only compact versions), PLUS:
CAR SEAT (hopefully your less new one, since it may get beat up)
stroller to check (snap and go works great for reclining car seat style)
umbreller stroller for older kiddoes- ideally that folds down easily, with a reclining seat for mobile napping
new never before seen toys for each hour of plane ride
something to suck on for take-off and landing, especially if not nursing anymore

Diapering:

Diapers
wet bag
Cloth diapers
extra wipes

In Diaper bag:
Little squares (3):  these are little waterproof cloth squares that help with public restroom dirtiness.
Portable changing pad and Purell
Diaper cream
sunscreen
Wipes in case
spare outfit

If Potting Training:
training pants
three potties
Underwear
treats for potty

Nursing/eating
 
If nursing exclusively:
“Hooter hider”
Burp cloths (3)
lily pads
Mastitis remedy (wishgarden happy ducts)
hand or electic pump
bottles, nipples and caps

If begun solids, in the beginning:
spoon
food grinder
bibs (2)

If eating everything we’re eating:
Bibs (3)

Gear:

For sleeping:
Noise machine
nightlight
monitor (cheapie from target)
extra 9 volt battery for monitor
blankets
sheet for pack and play
Pack N Play
dark blanket and push pins for windows to make darker

For hiking:
Hiking backpack or ergo
Rain gear for all

For Bathing:
Too hot turtle- temperature monitor
rubber duck
inflatable bath
bubble bath/shampoo

For baby-proofing/house:
gate for stairs
stool

Clothing

Clothing for kiddoes:
4 sleep outfits (2 feetie, 2 non-feetie)
4 pairs shorts
5 t-shirts
1 pair jeans
1 pair sweats
Sweatshirt
one party outfit
Sunhat
swimsuit
swim diapers
Warm hats
Hoodie
Shoes (running shoes)
Boots (rubber boots)
Sandals (keanes or crocs-wear in the car to slip on and off)
slippers
warm jacket
windbreaker
rain pants

Clothes for you:
3 Nursing bras
5 pairs Underwear
Socks:  2 warm, 3 light
3 cute tops
Sleepy outfits:  3 bottoms, 4 t shirts
Party outfit (if going to a party)
jeans
cargo pants
2 pairs shorts
Bathing suit
Sunhat
sunglasses (in purse)
Hoodie
hiking shirt
Running shoes (blue)
Flip flops
sandals
pillow for me

For entertainment

Books for me:  parenting and pleasure reading
Journal
Baby book to add milestones
iPhone and charger
Camera and charger
board games (whonoo, balderdash, apples to apples)

Toiletries

For Me:
hankies(3)
Face lotion
Cleanser
Shampoo
conditioner
Pads and tampons (if your cycle is back)
Deodorant
Hair oil
Hair brush
Barrette
Ponytail holders
Sunscreen
Lotion
Massage cream
Baby oil
Nail file
Clippers

For kiddoes:
hair brush
Thermometer
First aid kit
bandaids
Colic ease and/or Mylicon Drops
Motrin and/or teething tabs
Sting stop
Antimicrobial salve
Kiddo sunscreen
Kiddo bug spray
Aloe vera gel

Please feel free to add, comment and let me know if I’ve forgotten anything (I’m sure I have!)  I love to learn!

Friendship – for new moms

When I was in second grade, making  a new friend was sometimes as simple as giving away my juicebox, or sharing a seat on the bus ride home.  “Wanna be my friend?” my new pal would chime.  “Sure!” I would say back with a smile.  “Hey, I have that same Garfield sticker!”  Friendship begun.  Check.

Now, juggling a business, a two-year-old, a marriage, and the everyday anxieties of a full adult life, making new friends seems anything but simple.

Today I made a friend.  Here are the elements that came together that made it work:

  1. Proximity.  She lives in my neighborhood.   Let’s face it, leaving the house with a small child is kinda like going on a camping trip.  Sometimes the prep outweighs the pleasure.
  2. Invitation.  She approached me (many times) to go for a walk.  The day of: she texted, emailed and called.  I appreciate (and need) a little persistence.
  3. Affinity.  Both she and I, as well as our two-year-olds, liked being together.  That’s huge.

So, we walked.

Nothing heroic.  We walked around the neighborhood lakes, over to my son’s favorite dirt biking hills (we walk on them, not bike on them), threw rocks in the lake, threw rocks at a fence, threw rocks at the dirt, shared snacks, shared some laughs, shared some time.

I can’t say how good it felt to come home after our time together.  Okay, it wasn’t as intimate and focused as a tea from my twenties might have been, but there were definitely shared moments, amidst the lost conversation threads, and watching that neither of our children fell off a dirt embankment.

I have to say a new friend makes me feel like a second grader, in more than one way.  I love the rush of realizing you have something in common!  (Her daughter is named Scotia, and my son is named Phoenix, both after towns that one parent grew up in).  And it felt so good just being seen… and liked for who you are.  There is nothing greater than that.   But mixed in there is the insecurity, ‘how much do I share? what if she thinks I’m weird/ too much/ wearing the wrong shoes?”  Feeling suddenly like the awkward girl in the lunchroom, hoping to find a place to sit.

As I watched our children tentatively hold hands, I felt we were doing the same, sharing a vulnerable moment of motherhood.  Sharing our insecurities, sharing our triumphs (Phoenix used the potty TWICE on our walk, just to make me glow as a mother!), and sharing the complete insanity of this isolated mother existence.  It’s hard to believe we are all doing this wild thing, inside our four walls, and someone just down the street from us, is living the same craziness…

And if we can just leave our homes for a moment, and go for a walk, we have contact.

Friendship.  Sunshine.  Mud.  Rocks.

So, mamas, don’t be afraid to take a risk.  Be seen in your less-than-perfect new mama state.  Don’t wait till you ‘have it all together again’ to go out and make friends.  You are not alone.  Make a phone call, make the effort, wear the wrong shoes, and find a new friend.  There may be a mama right around the corner, just waiting for an invitation.   And I’m pretty sure that ‘having it all together again’ is not really part of being a new mom.

Today, I want to say Thank you to the woman who asked “Wanna be my friend?”

The answer is yes.

Not So Ambivalent

(note:  this is back-published from last fall.   For those of you who know my more recent news, all is well. )

Today I had the funny sensation of mourning over my period. I’m guessing this isn’t a new feeling for many women, but it felt new for me.  I’ve had other periods in the past that I met with enormous relief and gratitude. And I’ve had a ton that I’ve met with nothing but a shrug, and a trip to the cabinet for a pad.  The first time I ever missed a period, I was pregnant with our son.  Our first conception happened on a wing and a prayer (and one try), so I only had shock that time:  surprise, shock, and excitement as I saw my first positive pregnancy test.  And then I had almost two years of no periods through pregnancy and nursing, a strange time, a break of sorts.  And I remember the feeling of excitement and sadness when my period came back 13 months after my son was born.  A funny combination of honoring that my body was my own again, and ironically ready to give away to another baby.

This time, as I saw blood, I had realization.

I have been flirting around with the idea of baby number two for almost a year now. I’ve been treating it with distance, callously, with jokes about how other people’s second pregnancies sound like a cancer diagnosis to me.   I would look at women exclaiming their joy at expecting number two, and inside I was thinking  “Was it on purpose?  Can anything be done now?  Is it treatable?”    I have been playing off my fear with ambivalence, and not being in relationship with all the unknown (and known) terrors that come with a second baby.

But today I learned something big. Aside from all the logistical stuff, the financial stuff, the sleep deprivation; In spite of all the heartbreak that is almost guaranteed when you open your heart to loving a child;  In spite of all the questions I have about my ability to do it, or at least to do it well, and in spite of the invasion into the sweet loving relationship between me and my son, and the feelings of betrayal I fear my son will feel watching me love another child,  in spite of the massive ‘rug pulling out’ insecurity that comes with expanding our family, I know now… in spite of all that.

I want a baby.

I’ll say it. I want another child to grace my body and my belly with it’s presence. I want my diastasis to rip open again (well, maybe not that part). I want to expand and laugh and feel my belly shake like a bad Santa at the mall. I want to feel my belly touch my thighs as I sit.  I want a baby soon, and I’m afraid of the space, the question marks around when and how and if. My mind dances around useless thoughts like “well, I am three years older now…” and “those eggs ain’t getting any younger.” I find myself in moments feeling like an outsider in my own studio, unsure of what to say to these mamas in full bloom, while I feel a little like a wilted dandelion.

It sounds silly even as I write it, as this last cycle could in no way be called an honest “try.” My husband and I threw a long shot pass five days before ovulation.  Those swimmers would have needed Olympian strength and magical powers to reach my egg. And yet, the feelings of loss are here. It feels like I can’t deserve to feel that way after such a short effort. It feels like I’m overdoing it. It feels unfair when I know the immense heartbreak others have experienced on their path to motherhood. It seems like I could blame it on hormones. You can always blame it on hormones.

I guess the gift here is knowing BEFORE getting pregnant, just how much I want it. So hopefully those two pink lines won’t feel like the soul earthquake I felt when I saw it the first time, or the empty disappointment at the single pink line this week. Hopefully I will feel the gratitude, that one more precious soul, on it’s miraculous journey, has chosen me to be it’s mama. The greatest, hardest and most blessed role on earth.

Until then, I’ll just let myself cry, tapped into the longing, pinned down by my own truth. I am not so ambivalent about baby number two.

Coming home

(thoughts after Prenatal Yoga with Kirsten)

Tonight I had the pleasure of taking Kirsten Warner’s Prenatal yoga class at Yo Mama. Since Kirsten and I have been preparing a Prenatal Teacher Training together for the last 7 months, we decided it might be good to drop in on each others yoga classes. Getting there was the usual adventure, involving six other people, and seventeen text messages, to carve out two hours for myself.

Let me preface that these last few weeks have been immensely, overwhelmingly, and unusually stressful. Three babies arrived in our doula practice last week, with only two doulas available for the week, and only one of our doulas available for the weekend (me.)  I attended a phenomenal birth Friday night, went to an amazing (steampunk!) wedding on Saturday, dropped heavily into my bed only to hear the pager go off at 2am. I’ve been feeling the weight of what I have created crashing around me, feeling that it’s all too much for me, and feeling smaller and more stressed than I’ve been since postpartum. At the peak of my stress yesterday, I yelled at my mom, and then cried all the way to Yo Mama, eating a pb and j for dinner in the car and ohm-ing, trying to get ready to teach 11 couples their last childbirth class. It hasn’t been pretty.

So Kirsten’s class was a welcome respite. Kirsten is an Anusara teacher, which commonly uses theming. Tonight’s theme was gratitude. Each person shared something they are grateful for. As each woman shared about her sister, her husband, her child, etc. I was feeling the gratitude for all of those things. I have a husband that I adore, a child who lights up my heart, and family close by to help share the raising of my son. But what I felt most of all, as I sat in that sun-filled room, looking at the trees and the water below, was gratitude for Yo Mama. Gratitude that this idea that I brought here, and built on faith, with a baby in my belly, hoping that mamas would come, is alive and thriving today. The first night we opened, almost three years ago, there were two mamas: Marisa Narog and Steph Kassels (both of which have number two now!!). Marisa had been emailing me, anxiously awaiting the open date. Steph was excited we had yoga after work time. I was just so happy that I wasn’t in the room alone. Tonight, as I looked at the eleven mamas in the room, and looked at one of the best yoga teachers in Boulder teaching the class, my heart filled with joy. One of the student’s mentioned her gratitude was Kelly, one of our other phenomenal teachers, and I felt so much gratitude it kept me smiling through the entire class.

The other thing I felt so grateful for was the Yoga itself. One of our students, Erika, mentioned that when she takes class with Kirsten she feels like a yogi who is pregnant, not a pregnant woman doing yoga. And I felt that as well. My heart and body were more open, more spacious, and filled with the grace that yoga allows. Yoga doesn’t change the contents of our life, but it widens the container. After a class like tonight, my capacity to handle the ups and downs of my human existence feels larger, more available, more steady. And that is essential in the times we live in, perhaps more than ever.

Thank you, Boulder. Thank you, my amazing staff. Thank you to the amazing teachers that make Yo Mama what it is. And mostly, thank you to every mama who comes in the doors and does yoga with us, and tells her pregnant friends to do the same.

I have always been a hard worker, and had a strong vision of what is possible. But this vision would be nothing without all of you.

Why are all my Ex-es so Hot?

(and other thoughts on Marriage after baby)

The light drizzle that had started as I was hiking turns suddenly torrential, and I run to the shelter of the porch a few doors down from our family cabin. I look at the threatening clouds, deciding whether to try to run, when a clap of thunder stops me cold. The door of the cabin opens, and to my shock, my ex (Name withheld for privacy, and to make sure all my exes feel equal), steps onto the porch. With a confident glint in his eye, he says “Katie? I didn’t expect to see you up here? You look amazing.’ As the rain pours down around us, I briefly think of my husband and son, and wonder if they are worrying about me.

‘Come inside.” He says, “you’re soaking wet.”

We both know where this is going, and he grabs my hips like a tiger grabs his dinner.  I’m all over him like cream cheese icing on a Cinnabon, and he says my name over and over “Katie, Katie, Katie” and then strangely… “Mama, mama!” he’s yelling it now, and his voice is getting higher “Mama!”

“MMMMMAAAAA MAAA!”

The monitor lights screech red and green as my son screams me awake. Thrust back into my own life, I turn to see my smiling husband on one side, and my beloved two year old screaming through the video monitor from the other room.

‘Good morning’ says the father of my child, sweetly. ‘What were you dreaming about?”

‘Oh, nothing.’

What is it about marriage and children that makes a fantasy out of the life we lived before? What is it about knowing you’ve chosen one person to be with for the rest of your life, that makes every ex-boyfriend (or girlfriend) suddenly look like a Prince? Am I the only one that is having sex with all my exes in my dream world, and waking up wondering ‘what if?’

My coach in LA used to call it “comparison shopping lives.” And now with the wonders of Facebook, you can actually glimpse what it would have been like if you were still with so and so, or if you hadn’t broken up with such and such. I assure you, I have no intention of ever leaving my husband or child. In fact, I’m confident I will see this man sitting across from me on a porch swing in our Golden Years. So what is this desire to escape?

When I got married, I felt that I was closing so many doors. When I got pregnant, I felt like I locked each one behind me. There is nothing more permanent than a child.

That’s when the dreams began.

Like a rotating dance card, each ex made their way into my psyche, and into my bed, and I would wake up, sweating, nervous, and look sheepishly at my beloved.

I’m not sure what this is… this fantasy. It goes beyond the sex, it’s about what my life used to feel like, or at least a fantasy version of it.  Big Hollywood montage sequences dance through my head: Me, running on the beach, me: writing in a journal, me: sitting on a lifeguard stand as the sun sets, wrapped up in a hoodie, not a care in the world, letting time pass like it was in endless supply. I know that’s not actually what life felt like at that time. I remember I was sitting on that lifeguard stand looking longingly at the couple and young child playing in the waves in front of me, wondering when my life would be complete.

Last month I did a Kids Yoga training, and the teacher taught a story about meditation. The master was explaining the key to happiness to his students: when I walk, I walk. When I eat dinner, I eat dinner. When I meditate, I meditate. When I sleep I sleep. The students said ‘we do the same!” “no, said the master: when you walk, you think about dinner, when you eat dinner, you think about meditation, when you meditate you think about sleep, and when you sleep, you think about ex-boyfriends.” (or something like that)

What would it look like to wake up each morning so filled with bliss and gratitude for your own life,  instead of looking to see if someone else got a better order than you? What would it be to trust that everything is working out perfectly? What would it be to know that your beloved was divinely chosen to fully match you on every level, and teach you what it means to love? What would it be like to communicate to your family that there is no place you would rather be on earth than right there with them.

I guess that would be enlightenment. Or something close to it.

I realize more and more that the love each person gave to me along the way helped me become the woman I am now.  And perhaps that is part of the dreaming, and diving back into those other lives.  It’s to reconnect to the person that I became in the arms of that lover.  To honor what they saw in me, and helped me see in myself.  To remember lessons we learned together, about love, what to do, and more importantly, what NOT to do.

This is my path. When I walk, I walk. When my mind slips away, I watch the slipping away. And I return to the walking. And when I look at my husband, I see a person who loves me, even with my slippery mind, and my funny ex-boyfriend dreams, and I am grateful.   Grateful for this man who is spacious and strong.  Grateful to those that loved me enough to teach me how to be a better partner.  Grateful for all the breakdowns and break-ups that led me right here.

And even though I sometimes want to run from it… I am grateful for my life.

Sex After Baby: A how-to guide for partners

In my last post I got real about what to expect from sex during the post partum year.  Now I’m going to talk about how.  Mamas, go ahead and read this, but it’s meant for your partners.  So pass it on.

So, you just had a baby.  You are still basking in the heroic act of welcoming your child into the world and you were stunned by the sheer animal power your lady demonstrated during the birth. You wanted to take her right then and there, but you knew that you had to wait until she was ready, and that day has finally come.  You’ve been waiting and hoping and fantasizing, and today’s the day.

Feeling like a teenager, you take a shower, throw on some cologne, and stride into the bedroom.  You look at your beloved, radiant in her milk stained nightgown.  She looks up and you exchange a look.  You anticipate that she’s about to tell you how excited she is. But instead, she opens her mouth and says

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry . . . I mean, can we just go to sleep?”

That wasn’t exactly what you had hoped for. What now?

When it comes to reconnecting sexually with your partner after baby, Make this your mantra:

Go slow, aim low, and let go.

Remember that Post partum sex requires a deep level of care and patience, tons of love and humor, and a very soft touch.  You may find yourself asking very “un-sexy” questions like: Is this hurting your hemorrhoids?; Does this angle work for your scar tissue?; Can I start to move or do you want me to stay still for a while?: and Do you want me to stop completely and just hold you?.  Let me tell you though, these careful considerations, and compassionate touches are the sexiest thing in the world to the healing postpartum mama.

Go Slow. 

Approach your sexual time with her with curiousity instead of a goal. Sometimes slow means stop.  At any moment, if she begins to feel unsafe or in pain, stop immediately.  Sex can bring up many feelings for her, both physical and emotional.  She needs to slowly get to know her body again. And don’t forget all the creative ways to be sexual together!  Intercourse is just one expression of love. Remember those amazing steps along the way that seemed so exciting in high school.  Take your time, explore, and see what else is possible.  And don’t be afraid to use lubricant to off set the changes created by postpartum hormones.  (Note:  remember if it’s lack of libido more than fear of contact with the vagina, other kinds of sex may still be hard for her to participate in.  Honor her pace.)

Aim Low.

The first year after baby is all about baby’s needs, which are unending, and immediate.  Everyone else’s needs are shoved in the closet, and not removed until after that first birthday candle is blown out. 

Make a goal of surrounding your partner with love, instead of having sex.  She needs to know that you still find her sexy even if all she wants to do is snuggle up and go to sleep.  She needs to know that nothing is required of her beyond the already heroic task of caring for our child.  She needs to know that it’s okay to not want sex.

In a book called Porn for New Moms, there is picture of a beautiful man under the sheets looking seductive and saying “Let’s not have sex tonight.  Why don’t I rub your feet and you can tell me about the baby’s day.”  Listen and learn, partners.  The best way to seduce your post partum sweetie is to let her have as much time as she wants as far away from sex as she needs.

Let Go.

Let go of the story that there is a problem if you are having less sex than you used to. Let go of what sex “should” be like.  Be present to the tenderness you have for one another.  Be compassionate for the exhaustion you both feel.   And when you do make love, help her to let go. Find breath work, yoga, tantric techniques.  Use your voice to help her surrender. Tell her she is beautiful.  Tell her that things might feel different. Tell her that she is sexier now than ever.   Tell her that you want to be with her forever.  And again, tell her to breathe. Make sex an act of devotion.  Have her imagine she is a plant receiving sunlight, or the shore receiving the ocean.

And remember: you are the one that she created this child with, she wants to grow old with you, and she adores you.  And she may not want to have sex right now.

Please don’t take it personally.

If you are about to have a baby and are feeling concerned right now,  Don’t fear.  This can be one of the most intimate years of your relationship.  In your baby, you may see your partner’s sweet smile, their sassy brow line, or calm spirit.  You meet a person that is born of the love you feel for one another.

You will both love sex again.

Biology makes sense. As her cycle returns, she will look at you in a whole new way.   The woman that you knew and loved before baby arrived will be back in your arms. There may be less sex for a year, but you will likely discover a new level of intimacy that can build your lifelong relationship. Years from now, you will sit on a porch swing talking about all of the years, and this will seem like one single flower in the full garden of your life together.

This post was originally written for Mother’s Advocate, and I’m proud to announce that the Lamaze Birth with Confidence Blog featured this post this week.

Sex, Lies, and the Postpartum Year

Warning: if you have not had children yet, read at your own risk.

“A year?” a mama in my childbirth class said to me, her jaw dropping.

“Yes, a year. Maybe a little more, depending on when your baby masters sleeping through the night, and how quickly your body heals.”

It was the night where the women and their partners separate. It feels a little bit like eighth grade health class, but it’s a powerful night, and gives people the space to talk without concern for their partner’s feelings. We talk about many things, but one thing above all: SEX (or shall we say the lack thereof) after having a baby.

Don’t get me wrong – many couples grow closer during this time.  There is a magic to this baby moon, this slowing down and refocusing on what is really important in life.  Having a baby forces a whole new level of teamwork and has the potential to create a relationship that is unshakable.

But it’s not a sexy year.

My personal highlights from early postpartum?  Feeling a crazy heaviness in my vagina every time I got out of bed; watching my breasts grow to six-times their original size, but not wanting to be touched; having uncontrollable gas; wearing a diaper (yes, me, not the baby) and strutting around our room with my beautiful post partum pooch; thinking about sex the way someone would think about washing the kitchen floor, like it’s important to do, but not at all pleasurable; wondering if I was ever going to sleep again, or if I was going to live the rest of my days in a foggy, subtly depressed state of malaise.

Not exactly boom-chick-a-boom time.

Most doctors don’t help the matter by setting up the expectation that you can – and will – be having sex 6-weeks postpartum. Partners go home and circle the date on their calendar.  Many well-meaning books also lead couples astray. One couple I worked with read a book on marriage after baby and came away with the idea that every postpartum couple “should” be having sex once a week after the initial six-week healing period; that it is a woman’s duty to take care of her partner sexually, even if she doesn’t feel like it.  Instead of “baby-proofing” the marriage, this nearly ended the marriage.

Your body needs time.

After attending 170 births as a doula and working with hundreds more in my yoga studio, it seems to be pretty universal: when it comes to feelings about sex in early postpartum, most mamas range from not interested to downright terrified.

There is a level of trauma in birth.  Lynn Leach, a physical therapist and healer, said to me once that everything after “the moment that you don’t want to do it anymore” can register as trauma in the body.  For some women this could be minutes, others could be hours or even days.

While it may be physically possible to have sex six weeks after birth, most mamas get the shakes just thinking about something going back in where this enormous baby just came out. The idea of any kind of activity down there can be daunting. I gingerly I I explained to my husband that my vagina was like the hiking trails that are closed for rehabilitation.  Nothings broken, you just can’t go there right now.

I’m sure there is the rare mama who feels hot and ready-to-go at six weeks, but I haven’t met her yet.  For most of us, the desire wanes and sex seems like some crazy thing that you used to do before baby came along, like pedicures and “girls nights.”

Expectations are crucial.

In my class, I focus on setting appropriate expectations.  My husband and I, in our separate rooms with the couples, spell out a more realistic timeline of what to expect:

  • Around 6-10 weeks:  A rather awkward attempt at sex.
  • Sometime after that: Another try, maybe a little more successful.
  • Every month or so:  Mama musters up the energy to try again.
  • By six months:  Mama may think sex is a good idea.
  • By a year:  Mama actually initiates (especially if baby is sleeping well).

This timeline is by no means definitive and it is important not to compare. Some couples find their way back to regular sex quickly, and others barely have sex once before the baby’s first birthday.   I encourage couples to trust that whatever love and sexual expression they are capable of in each moment is enough.  And to remember: as with all things baby, it’s always going to be in flux.

Many factors affect libido, including: breastfeeding, physical healing, stress, lack of sleep, and (perhaps most powerfully) the hormonal shift. If your body (physically) doesn’t appear to be functioning – or feeling – right after six months, consult a physical therapist who specializes in pelvic health, to make sure that everything is healing correctly.  This work can instantly change the experience of sex.  Don’t suffer through painful intercourse without getting checked.  I secretly thank my physical therapist every day that I have sex with my husband.

That’s right, the dry spell doesn’t last forever.

I remember clearly my first ovulation, at 13 months postpartum, suddenly noticing this devastatingly handsome man in my room.  I’m not sure where he’d been all year, but my husband was looking pretty cute. Perhaps the quantity of sex changes (it’s a lot harder to find the time than it used to be), but the quality can also change, to be a deep and lasting expression of the love between two people.  Love that welcomed another human being into the world.

And that’s pretty hot.

Stay tuned for section two, for more about the physical and emotional “how-to” for sex in the postpartum year.

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