10 summers ago


10 summers ago was my last couple of months as a person who hadn't yet experienced becoming a mother. It was a time in my life when I didn't know what to expect from labor and delivery pain. It was a time in my life when I hadn't yet cried over my boobs not producing milk in the way I was told it "should" and feel like a failure because it hurt, even when they told me I was doing it right and that doing it right shouldn't hurt. It was a time in my life when the stretch of my skin was celebrated and adored by people. I was so proud when I looked at my growing tummy (and let's be honest, great boobs for the first time in my life). I was on cloud 9 as a visibly pregnant woman who was over the moon excited to be having this baby and wanted to talk to everyone in the world about it.

I don't always know how to talk about this because I don't want to ever sound rude or non-inclusive, but I think there is this "before" giving birth to another human being and an "after" giving birth to another human being. And that it's a shift inside and out and in so many ways that we don't often get to slow down and talk about. And that you really can't put it into words to help someone who hasn't been through it to understand.

And it's why it can be hard to talk to your friends who haven't been through it themselves. Not because they are less than in any way, but because there's something that you just relate to other moms about.

10 years ago, I couldn't imagine how my life would shift in a decade.
The way motherhood and marriage would both repeatedly call out my own inner struggles and mean girl voices.
The way seeing my favorite and least favorite qualities shine through in my kids would allow me to find a commitment to growth that I hadn't ever been able to muster in other seasons of my life.
The way marriage wouldn't always feel like the lazy river of relaxation and sexiness, but would require seeing one another at your lowest and still saying "we're on the same team."
The way that I had a capacity and love and tenacity inside of me that I never could have mustered in my imagination.
That I'd never feel quite so badass.

Maybe in the next few days or weeks I'll be able to share some more reflections on 10 years, for anyone interested.

I wish I had connected more with women who had become mothers before me- what I could have learned from them and observed in their demeanor.
I wish I had been more intentional about building community and specifically community that I didn't have to perform or show up "with it all together" for. (That would have required me to drop my constant striving to appear to have it all together, but I've already talked to a therapist about that.)
I wish I had taken up more time and space loving on myself. Not just for carrying the baby. Not just for securing the "husband and a baby on the way" fantasy. But falling in love with myself so that I could not be preoccupied in the early years of motherhood by trying to keep up with everyone else when it felt like the expectations constantly got higher and higher.
I wish I had cozied up to my core people and let myself relax more. Be present. Be content. Enjoy where I was.

Where were you 10 years ago? Where do you hope to be 10 years from now? I'd love to know!

-Chels

PS: Is there someone pregnant in your life that you know would benefit from getting her husband more involved in the planning before baby? What about a couple that's always talking about their personal growth and you know they'll need some of that as they become parents? Or the sister that you don't want to lecture, but also want to make sure she gets some baseline info about things like the mental load, mental health, sleep deprivation, resentment, etc? Send them our way. We are hosting a group of our Prep for Us program. It's for couples who are currently expecting and we'll be giving them shared language, guiding them through the most important pre-baby conversations for couples to have, helping them communicate what they need from each other when life gets chaotic, and building some go-to scripts or check-ins they can use to say "babe I see you and still love you" when they aren't getting to connect as much as they'd like to.

This group is always so special. We'd love to get 2 or 3 more couples in this round so if this is someone you know, send them here:
Prep for Us: How to Prepare Your Relationship for a Baby | Postpartum Together

Postpartum Together with Chelsea Skaggs

I help expecting and new parents improve their communication skills, connection points, and confidence through relationship road mapping so they can enjoy the life they've built together.

Read more from Postpartum Together with Chelsea Skaggs
virtual mom circles

Dear mom (no, really, I need to give a disclaimer to my mom before she reads this email because I know she will read this email and I love her for that, but I also don't want her feelings to get hurt) Mom, when you read this email about how I really needed other women in other seasons of motherhood to be in my circle, it's not because you weren't enough, it's just that I needed someone who wasn't you, wasn't so emotionally involved in my choices and my wellbeing, to practice saying hard...

Circles. Postpartum Together🫶 I don't see a way to make this world a better place without centering the importance of mother. ↓ There is a lot of conversation right now about rebuilding the village. About mothers needing more support. About care-centered communities. About female wisdom, leadership, connection, and what it could look like for mothers to stop carrying so much alone. And I love those conversations. But I also keep coming back to one question: What is the first real step? Not...

Postpartum Together🫶 I keep thinking about how unnatural modern motherhood can feel. ↓ Not because mothers today are doing it wrong. But because so many moms are doing something deeply communal inside lives that are set up for isolation. For most of human history, motherhood happened with people nearby. A baby was passed from arm to arm. A toddler was corrected by someone who wasn’t already touched out. A meal showed up without a full explanation of why you needed it. A mom could say, “I...