Checking in on my postpartum self
Low Tide Notes | 0019
Back to our regularly scheduled programming … kind of!
Happy Friday, it’s nice to see you.
9 months in … How am I doing?
Guys so Joan is 9 months old, which means I had a baby nine months ago. And sitting down to reflect on how I’m doing is proving to be challenging. That question — “How are you?” — is so weighted that I typically give the high-level, I’m great! And I am? But I’m not? Let me try to unpack this.
In fitness
It’s hard to remember that I was chair- or bed-bound for the first 6 weeks after giving birth. A walk around the block was a marathon. Putting the dishes away, a powerlifting competition.
Now I’m back on the pull up bar, snatching a sweet 65#, back squatting a whopping 115#. After Hyrox, I dialed it back to build my core back better. But my core is, I don’t even know what a core is. One day I’m proud of doing 60 75# dball cleans, the next I can’t even hold a hollow rock. It’s humbling and hard and defeating and rewarding, all at once.
I’m just grateful for movement and for a gym community that supports me and loves my baby and gives me the space to do what I need. (Cigar City CrossFit —> NoEQL, still my gym, my place, 10 years in the making! 🤍🖤) I can feel it, after each hard workout, my engine revving back up, my cardio lasting longer, my muscles aching and growing. I have a long way to go, but I am forever impressed with the female body.
In individuality
Who is Hannah Farrow before baby, and who is she after? Happy to report, she’s the same goddamn person.
The noise around this subject is two extremes: You become Mother of Joan, period. Or you become You, Reborn. Idk. I think I’m Mother Hannah.
I find my interests are the same: Stressing over the state of journalism; reading l i t e r a t u r e; getting pissed at everyone on their phones; thrifting; sipping a Friday porch cosmo with my betrothed; sucking down Perfect Match and online stalking Jimmy Sotos; etc. Sue me!
Making time for myself — solo— has been the struggle. Moms’ Night Outs, easy to schedule; I live for those venting sessions. My two hours of solitude on the weekend? Let us pray I ask Jack for coverage before I boil over only to drive to Barnes and Noble just to sit in the parking lot and listen to Luke Combs’ Be By You on repeat. There’s no deeper meaning here, no symbolism. It’s just what I’ve done too many times to count.
If anything, my sense of self and who I am is more solidified than it was before. I fckn love being a mom. And I love who I am as a mom.
In career
I sit on a strange island at my job. There’s a cohort of colleagues ~9 years older than me with 5-year-olds, and there’s a cohort of recent grads who are wondering which high yield savings account to open. Then there’s me… married… with a baby... It’s hard to relate to if you’re not in it, so I find most people don’t ask. (No shade here. Reflecting on my interactions with new moms in my career… yeah, wtf do you say?!)
I was, however, told by one colleague how well it looks like I’m doing. How seamlessly I’ve taken on leadership and how easy I make motherhood look. Greatest compliment I could get.
I’m happy to report, too, that I’ve gotten to the point in juggling all the above where I feel ready and wanting to become more social, something that has been met with open arms by my peers. It’s starting to feel like things are falling into place as I get into a better rhythm. As much as I can gripe about journalism, journalists are some cooky cool curious people, and I love being in the cohort.
In marriage
This section is last because it’s been the hardest one to navigate.
After waking up, feeding baby, packing baby’s lunch, dropping baby off at daycare, working 8 hours (managing breaking news, my team, digital strategy, meetings, etc, etc, etc while also doing laundry, organizing house, ordering groceries, etc, etc, etc), picking baby up, working out at the gym with baby on the floor with me, eating dinner, putting baby to bed, showering … the last thing I want to do is be all cuddly with my husband.
A common saying we both use is How you do the little things is how you do the big things. We apply that mostly to our jobs, but we’ve adopted it for our relationship.
Put another way: [ i n t e n t i o n a l i t y ]
After a long day where we both just want to lay and watch a show? No problem — but no phones. After a long week? Cocktails on the porch, just us — and no phones.
And maybe our greatest hack to date: Dropping Joan off at daycare on a Monday, playing hooky from work, and driving to the beach for a canoodling day date.
The little things have added up to the point where we don’t feel like roommates anymore, and I will take that as a win.
***
I’ll tell you this has been like a really hard time. Learning to parent while navigating ambitions and career growth and fitness and health and self betterment. And it’s also been the most rewarding time of my life.
Nine months in… literally the rest of my life to go. <3 <3 <3
What I listened to this week!
Olivia Wilde: Dating, Double Standards & Dealing with Scrutiny, Call Her Daddy
I love love love Olivia Wilde’s commentary on being a working mom. I also love the way she describes her upbringing; both her parents were journalists who encouraged her to form her own opinions. OK!!!!
If you haven’t yet, check out some of my past essays:
Love you proud of you mommy hanny