Life After Pregnancy: The Fourth Trimester Hits Different

On March 9th, one day before her due date and in a whirlwind, we welcomed our beautiful daughter to this world, and just like that, our little wolfpack became a family of four.

This moment felt like millennia in the making, especially as I muddled through the final weeks of pregnancy, yet nothing could have fully prepared me for the wave of change that followed her arrival. The love? Instant and overwhelming. The transition? Beautiful, brutal, and everything in between.

This blog series will be my space to unpack it all—the unfiltered realities of postpartum life, the quiet (and not-so-quiet) struggles, and the slow unfolding of this new chapter in our ever-evolving story.  Whether you’re expecting, recovering, parenting, or simply navigating a major life shift, I hope that these words remind you you’re not alone in the mess and the magic of writing the next page of your evolving story.

Let’s begin.

Expectations vs. Reality

First of all, I know what you’re thinking– “Christina, you’ve done this before. You know the drill.” To which I’d say, “Yes and no.” Sure, I’ve been through birth and recovery, but my experience with B was far different. With Matt’s diagnosis and the events leading up to his diagnosis, I never really “experienced” the fourth trimester in its traditional sense. My brain was so hyper-focused on Matt, I don’t even remember the physical recovery from birth, the hormonal shifts, or the exhaustion. I didn’t have the time or capacity to focus on that. So the “realities” that existed were somewhat of a blur. And every baby is different. Every birth is different. I’ll dive more into this in another post, but it’s important to put that disclaimer out before we go any further.

In true Christina fashion, I had a long list of “to-dos” I imagined accomplishing during maternity leave. I would finally organize our house after a year of living here. I’d get the blog rolling again, plan out our weekly meals, dive into a solid exercise regimen, and sneak in daily activities and adventures. I pictured myself snuggling the baby while catching up on emails or sipping coffee in a tidy house, rested and glowing. Ok, maybe not rested…but a few notches above my current status. 

Instead, here’s what happened: I’ve been surviving on 3-4 hours of broken sleep, living in a rotation of clothes that work for this “in-between body” phase, and using every ounce of my energy to care for a newborn, a six-year-old, and my healing body. The laundry piles faster than I can keep up with it. The blog is just now resurfacing. And some days, I’m ashamed to admit that I’m surviving off coffee, ice water, goldfish, and anything easily accessible with a baby in one arm.

I think the gap between expectation and reality exists because we don’t talk enough about how physically and mentally brutal the first month postpartum can be. You’re recovering from birth—an intense physical experience that leaves you bleeding, sore, swollen, and sleep-deprived. Your hormones are crashing hard, and your emotions follow close behind. You’re navigating feeding challenges, pain, crying spells (theirs and yours), and trying to bond with this new little human who relies on you for everything.

So no, I haven’t reorganized our hallway closets or the cabinets under my sink. Some days, our neighborhood walk is the extent of our out-of-house excursions. I’m not back to where I was pre-pregnancy. But I’m showing up for a tiny human who relies on me to survive. And yet, it still doesn’t feel like enough sometimes.

The Challenges No One Talks About

We prepare for pregnancy. We prepare for birth. But we rarely prepare women for the after. 

I’m going to give it to you straight. The fourth trimester is raw and relentless. It’s crying because your baby won’t latch, or crying because they did, and it hurts so much you grit your teeth and tense your entire body through the feed. It’s bleeding, stopping, then, just when you think you’re in the clear, bleeding again. It’s engorgement and trying to find a bra that will fit your disproportional body. It’s wondering if you’ll ever feel like you again—physically, emotionally, mentally.

I never got to write a postpartum blog after Bryson was born. But I remember wanting to share this, and it transcended into this pregnancy, too. No one told me how loud the silence could feel in those early days, especially when you’re up feeding a baby in a dark room while the rest of the world sleeps. Or how even with a partner by your side, postpartum can still feel lonely. Like you’re floating in this strange in-between where time moves both painfully slow and impossibly fast. When you’re forced to slow down and schedules don’t seem to matter. 

It’s beautiful, yes. But it’s also hard. And the more we say that out loud, the less alone other women will feel when they find themselves deep in it.

From a Family of Three to Four

One of the most surprising emotional hurdles has been adjusting from a family of three to four.

For three years, it was just Bryson and me. We were a little unit, forged in fire and bonded in ways only the two of us can understand. He was there in the quiet after the storm—after Matt died, after I was forced to piece together a life I never saw coming. It was him and me, building a world from scratch, with routines and snuggles and inside jokes that carried us through. He gave me purpose when I felt unmoored. He made me laugh when everything else felt heavy.

Then, Paul came into our lives. A new chapter. A swift, yet, intentional opening of my heart to the possibility of more. More love. More stability. More laughter. And with that love came new routines, new trust, new dynamics. Watching Paul step into the role of partner and father has been one of the most amazing experiences I’ve witnessed. For more insight there, Paul spilled all here. But let’s be honest—change isn’t always seamless. It’s layered. Tender. Messy. Real.

And now, here we are—with Gianna in our arms and a whole new version of our family being born alongside her. From two to three to four. From surviving to expanding. Every chapter and every brave decision brought us here. 

Some days, it’s magic. Some days, it’s mayhem. Most days, it’s both. But there is deep beauty in becoming something new, together.

Recalibrating Fourth Trimester Expectations

So here I am—tired, healing, emotionally tender, and completely in love. Not just with this baby girl, but with the version of our family that is slowly taking shape. With the transformation that happens in becoming this next version of myself– whatever that may look like.

This chapter is not about perfection. It’s about presence. I write this, knowing how much I need to hear it. Putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and sharing with the world reminds me of these truths, especially when I’m feeling anxious about my contributions and all the things that aren’t getting “done” or the progress I’m not making on that long “to-do” list I had heading into maternity leave.

I’m also learning that it’s okay to want things for myself, too. It’s okay to crave moments of action, creativity, and joy outside motherhood. To inch toward feeling like myself again, even if it’s just a “Christina walk,” a shower uninterrupted, or opening my laptop to write these words. The progress is slow, but it’s mine— and that counts for something. I’m not trying to bounce back. I’m trying to come back to myself, or this next version of myself, gently and intentionally.

If you’ve made it this far—thank you. While it may not be glamorous, it’s real. I hope you’ll walk with me through this series. Because this isn’t just about motherhood. It’s about evolving. Shedding. Growing. Expanding. And all the messiness that goes along with it. I’ll dig more into all this as the blog series continues.

There’s so much more to come—and I can’t wait to share it with you.

Until next time,

Christina