I was moved last week when I came across an Instagram post on what not to say to someone who has delivered a premature baby. It opened my heart. I saved it to return to if a friend delivers prematurely. Mainly, it reminded me that we just don’t talk enough about this stuff. Pregnancy and childbirth — in all their permutations — are so normalized, and the outcome so beautiful (a perfect miracle of a baby!), that we often overlook its intensity. This morning, I’m republishing a post from two years ago reflecting on the differences between my two birth experiences, and proposing that a big part of recovering is finding the bandwidth to let yourself feel everything. If you are a mother about to give birth, or recovering from childbirth, or grieving a childbirth that did not go as planned, or simply trying to make heads and tails of it in any way, creating space for you to feel it all right here today.

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A few posts back, I was writing about motherhood, and how I occasionally find it so demanding that I ask, “Is it this hard for everyone? Or is it just me?” I harbor the same questions when I think about my first c-section. It was technically “an emergency c” because my water broke early the morning I was scheduled to go in, and so they expedited the operation, but there was nothing dramatic about it — all went smoothly, straight-forwardly, with no hitches or problems. At least this was what I was told. “Everything went great!” “You’re healing wonderfully!” “Textbook!” And yet I’d found the entire situation so stressful and inhumane that I did not want to be alone for the first few weeks afterward, as I was afraid to sit by myself with its memory. I had convulsed so violently — from shock? from medication? — that I had seemed to be levitating off the operating table and was therefore not able to hold my baby after she was born. The minutes ticked by in painful agony. I wept the entire time. Tears dripped right down my cheeks into my mouth and off my chin. I could not wipe them clean as my arms has been placed outstretched on the table and I was too scared — perhaps too paralyzed — to move them. I felt alien from myself, barred from my own body. I cried and cried in the weeks aftermath, as I slowly processed the enormity of it. I soaked my husband’s shirts with tears. I did not heal from that childbirth, emotionally, until I delivered my second child, also by c-section. That second birthing experience released me: I emerged triumphant. I remember beaming into the camera in the recovery room, clutching my baby to myself, feeling wild surges of ecstasy and happiness. “We did it, we did it!” I remember saying to Mr. Magpie. Not only because our second, and our last, was safely in my arms, but because I had made my way from the deepest chasm of fear surrounding the births of our children to the apex of joy.

I have thought about this a lot over the past few years because — how did it happen? I think it has to do with my mindset by the time my son was born. Not only was a better prepared, emotionally, for the experience, but I also knew I’d endured it and had eventually made my way back to center. I trusted myself to complete the same lap twice. I reasoned that even if my experience of it was as terrible as the first had been, I could grit my teeth with a little more conviction. This, too, will pass. I was also better able to advocate for myself and my needs. I talked at length with the doctors about the medications I wished to avoid, my fear of the terrible shakes, my desire to hold my baby right after he was born, and they listened and delivered. But, I think, most importantly: in the two years between my children’s births, I was able to sit with all of the mixed emotions of the first birth and let them breathe. After initially avoiding eye contact with all forms of memory from my daughter’s delivery, I faced them by talking them out with my sister, my husband, my mother, other wonderful women. They listened and gently reminded me that even though “everything had gone great!”, it was OK to feel upset about the experience. I even laid down one afternoon in the weeks leading up to my son’s birth and tried to think through the entire experience as crisply as I could: this happened, then this happened, then this happened. I believed that if I could look that morning dead in the eye, I could escape from its gripping fear. I devised new strategies to lean on, including a plan of repeating the words: “Focus on me, not on the storm” instead of attempting to recite the Hail Mary, as I was wont to do. The Hail Mary is lovely but a bit long in the tail when you are hanging on every second. Or rather, when, each second trudges by in leaden shoes.

I recently came across a quote from an American Buddhist, Pema Chodron, in which she wrote:

“The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”

This, I think, is the chiming answer to not only why I was able to have a more positive experience with my second birth, but also to so many of my questions of heart: find room for it all. Stretch out your heart. Don’t be economical in the face of its wild, unencumberable movements. Imagine you are pouring from the center, not the rim. You are a thundering waterfall, not a trickle-trackle stream. Many things can be true at once and it is not your job, when you are healing, to figure out anything but how to make space for it all, so nothing creeps out sideways, skinny-like.

Today, I want to run a bit of a retraction. I wish I’d not asked “Is it harder for me?” because I think this might put us in the damning straits of comparison, but rather: “How can I make space for it all?” How can I permit myself to feel twenty-seven ways about motherhood without the standard predicate of guilt? Let’s take as a given that we are all doing our very best, and, as a Magpie pointed out, that motherhood will take as much as we have to give, whether we have one child or seven. It’s OK to feel wildly overwhelmed. It’s OK to be absurdly gleeful while watching your son eat. (Truly, what is it about watching my children eat that offers such deep satisfaction?). It’s OK to repair things after you’ve misspoken or raised your voice. It’s OK to weep over the little drawings your daughter left on your desk. Motherhood asks for it all, so might as well open up my heart as wide as possible and pour from the center.

Post-Scripts.

+Motherhood is a surfeit.

+Remember my writings about Fleetwood Mac? I’ve been re-listening to a lot of their music. Just forever great.

+We carry all the ages of our children with us.

If you want more Magpie, you can subscribe to my Magpie Email Digest for a weekly roundup of top essays, musings, conversations, and finds.

Shopping Break.

This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.

+Lake is running a sale starting today (it might open up at 10 a.m?) — I’ve heard it will include Relax sets (!) and kimono sets, which have steadily become some of my absolute favorite possessions. I own several colors/patterns in each of those styles. They are exactly what I want to put on when I am not feeling well / am particularly tired / want to “crawl into bed.” The material is so soft and springy and delightful. I need more Lake Pajamas like a hole in my head but I did pick up this “bundle” — great for travel (in case it’s hot or cold at destination, you’re prepared for either!) and I love the print.

+Margaux’s epic archive sale ends tonight! Snag a pair of these Chanel-inspired ballet flats in hydrangea blue or silver for under $150.

+Goop’s secret beauty sale also ends tonight — 20% off with code BEAUTYVIP. Don’t miss the microderm exfoliator! I used it over the weekend to wake my face up and get a good base glow before going out to a concert!

+Great everyday dress.

+Just ordered a pair of these “booty boost” leggings from Spanx in a fun green color. Had to get the matching half-zip, too! My early spring fitness look.

+These fantastic everyday, every-occasion earrings were restocked! I love mine.

+OK, these are a great pair of jeans from J. Crew Factory. I just got them in last week and the fit is amazing. Run TTS. Strong rec. I wore them twice in the past few days; you can see me in them here! Really comfortable with a great silhouette. (I also ordered these but did not care for the fit as much, FWIW!)

+I know these are spendy but my son LOVES these mesh shorts and I like that they are not super-long.

+Love these woven mary janes from Madewell!

+Veronica Beard’s extra 20% off sale ends today (use code WEEKEND2025). I rounded up all my top picks here. I’m dialing in on those block heel ballet flats! They’re just like me ones from Margaux but less expensive thanks to the discount.

+Into this different top for spring.

+This sweatshirt has an actual cult following. They sell out almost immediately after each restock!

+Another GORGEOUS spring wedding guest dress option.

+I’ve mentioned this a few times, but I’m really impressed with this “wrinkle pen.” It does appear to smooth out (or maybe fill) wrinkle lines. I love it!

+Sweet gingham swimsuit.