The Hardest Shift: Birth, NICU, and the Realities of Postpartum

Third Trimester Reality Check

The third trimester was an interesting transition. As a labor and delivery nurse, I thought I knew what to expect. But pregnancy and birth anxiety humbled me. I worked until my due date, determined to stay active. At 4'11”, my belly was huge and all out front, which made my back ache constantly.

Emotionally, I felt stable—at least on the surface. Everyone talks about "nesting" at the end of pregnancy, but I kept waiting for it to kick in. Spoiler: it didn’t. Thankfully, I didn’t have the return of first-trimester symptoms like morning sickness, but carpal tunnel in both wrists made daily tasks hard. Still, I was so grateful. If that nausea had returned? Just go ahead and take me out.

Birth Anxiety and the NICU Curveball

I spent a lot of time preparing for the unknown. Even though my prenatal visits were all positive, my gut told me to prepare for the end. Looking back, I realize I was experiencing third-trimester anxiety, which can often go unrecognized.

On **07/07/2023**, I gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl after 32 hours of labor and an emergency c-section. She had passed meconium in utero and had been inhaling it during labor, leading to serious respiratory issues. My newborn, the baby I prayed to keep safe, was now intubated and in the NICU with a chest tube. That was the hardest and lowest seven days of my life.

When Bonding Doesn’t Go as Planned

Leaving the hospital without her was soul-crushing. I visited her twice daily during NICU change-of-shift hours to hear updates directly. I spent hours with my hand inside the incubator, just holding her fingers. I couldn’t even hold her until day five, and when I finally could, it hurt her, so I laid her back down. It shattered me.

We were supposed to be bonding and breastfeeding. Instead, I felt detached. Would this experience affect our connection? I hyperfixated on breast milk production because it was the only thing I could do. And when my milk didn’t come in for four to five days, I was convinced I was failing as a mother.

Breastfeeding and Breaking Points

No one could convince me otherwise—I felt broken. The stress didn’t help either. But my lactation nurse changed everything when she introduced me to the Chocolate Milk Café, a breastfeeding support group for NICU moms. That community saved my journey.

After seven NICU days, my baby came home. But the latch still wasn’t latching. It took six weeks, four days, tears every two hours, pumping in between feeds, and raw, bleeding nipples to finally get it right.

She had a shallow latch. She was impatient and aggressive. I cared more about giving her what was best than giving myself any grace. But with the help of my lactation nurse, we got there. And now? 21 months later, we’re still going strong.

C-Section Recovery and Invisible Pain

C-section moms deserve more praise. The goal is often vaginal birth, but I now understand how postpartum recovery after cesarean is a journey all its own. I felt guilty being relieved that she was in the NICU—I had time to rest. But even basic tasks like showering were impossible without help.

A full bladder hurt. Sleeping on my side hurt. I couldn’t even lift my leg to get in the tub. How do moms recover from a c-section with a newborn, some with no partner, no village? That pain is physical and invisible.

Mental Health and the Need for Grace

I didn’t feel strong anymore. The mental shift hit me hard. I spiraled into postpartum depression and anxiety for the first six months. I had stopped going to therapy during pregnancy, thinking I didn’t need it. That was my biggest mistake.

Why did I expect myself to be a superhero when I was recovering from major surgery and NICU trauma? There’s so much pressure to bounce back. But nothing about birth recovery is linear or predictable.

A Village Saved Me

Despite everything, my daughter is my most precious blessing. She survived birth—and so did I. I’m grateful that we’ve grown together, and I’m proud of our bond, even if it started in crisis.

I took a travel nurse contract in California, leaving New York with my mom and daughter to change our scenery. I focused on my mental health, started moving my body, and chose me again. I’m grateful to my mom and best friend, Briana, for being my village during those early months.

Not Alone, Never Alone

I’m still learning to show up for myself. But I remind myself often:

“I am not what I went through, just what I experienced.”

That’s the truth of motherhood. That’s the heartbeat of this journey. And this? This is My Honest Shift.

Photo Credit: My baby and I; 6 weeks postpartum.