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Beautifully stated — the reality of motherhood ! How fortunate your children are to have you as their mom, and how lucky you are to be a grand mother. You should repost this piece on Mother’s Day as a reminder to all.
Karen, I love the Mother's Day idea and you're right, we need these reminders. And I'm the lucky one, getting to watch my daughters mother with such honesty and strength. Thank you for reading.
First of all, congratulations! Secondly, you are so right about this subject! I remember feeling a lot of shame about what was happening to my body in the weeks and even months after giving birth. When friends would stop by, my anxiety was through the roof. I couldn't fit into my clothes and couldn't control when my milk came in, etc. What cultures do to us is so strange to me.
Linda, thank you and I'm so sorry you carried that shame. The anxiety of friends stopping by when your body is doing what it's supposed to do but you can't control any of it - that's such a specific kind of stress that so many women know intimately.
What gets me is that we're made to feel ashamed of exactly what our bodies are designed to do. The milk, the healing, the transformation. It's all normal and necessary, but we're expected to hide it, apologize for it, or somehow have it all tidied up for visitors.
You're right - what cultures do to us IS strange. We celebrate pregnancy, celebrate the baby, but act like the messy, powerful reality of what happens to a woman's body in between is somehow inappropriate.
Congratulations to you and your daughter and the rest of the family on precious Hayes!
I had a Catholic mother (8 kids) who was pretty uncomfortable telling me about menstruation never mind anything else. (I was the first girl. Things may have been more relaxed with my little sister, I don’t know.) She handed 12 year old me a pamphlet about menstruation that Kotex put out and told me to let her know if I had any questions after reading it. It ended rather abruptly, leading me to quite naturally ask her “well, how does the egg get fertilized?” She was flustered by the question and told me she would explain it when I was a little older. Of course, we never had that conversation - I had to learn it on the street lol. It became a joke between us in later years - a NOW will you tell me? kind of thing e.g. after I gave birth to my third child.
One might think I would have been bewildered or shy or confused about pregnancy, birth, etc. with that upbringing but I was surprisingly chill about it. Possibly because my pregnancies were the best I ever felt emotionally and physically in my life - no smoking, no drinking, healthy eating, of course, but also I really think my hormones or dopamine or whatever became “normal” in a way that they never were or have been otherwise. (I did have a serious post partum depression after my third thought).
I also didn’t care what anyone thought re my parenting. I was very confident around infants and also refused to hide myself when I was breast feeding which I know left both sets of grandparents non-plusses. I wasn’t outrageously indiscreet but neither did I care if you saw my breast or if it offended you. My father grumbled once I remember but no one else ever did to my face.
Donna, I love everything about this, especially your mother handing you a Kotex pamphlet and the joke between you that lasted for years. And the fact that despite all that silence and discomfort around you, you found your way to confidence anyway, refusing to hide while breastfeeding even with your father grumbling. That's exactly the kind of quiet rebellion that changes things, one generation at a time. Your daughters (and now their kids) got to see what it looks like when a woman doesn't apologize for her body doing its work. That matters so much. Thank you for sharing this.
I’m not sure I have any right to comment, but I want to say just a few things. First, congratulations to you and your daughter. A birth is one of the universe’s miraculous events. Married for over 50 years to my patient and forgiving wife, I’ve always tried to see, sense things from her perspective. I know that’s not completely possible for a man, but I appreciate the things you’ve written, Ilona, because it adds to my limited knowledge base of sorts as to what it means to see and experience the world as a woman. Thank you and best wishes to three generations born of love.
Keith, of course you have the right to comment - this conversation needs men who are willing to listen and learn, not just women sharing with each other. Your willingness to see from your wife's perspective, to admit the limits of that while still trying - that's exactly what we need more of. The fact that you've been doing that work for 50+ years of marriage is beautiful. Thank you for being here and for your thoughtful presence in this community. It matters.
What struck me most is how you honored both the miracle and the trauma without trying to smooth the tension between them. That feels rare. Birth stories often get flattened into either triumph or damage, celebration or silence.
Holding both realities at once feels truer to lived experience. Your writing allowed space for gratitude without erasing harm, for wonder without denial. That balance stayed with me. It made me reflect on how often we demand neat emotional conclusions from experiences that were never neat to begin with. Welcome to the world, Hayes!
Thank you for this, Dr. A. You've articulated something I was reaching for but hadn't quite named. You're right that we're always pushed to make it one thing or the other: beautiful OR traumatic, empowering OR damaging. But birth (like most profound experiences) refuses those neat categories. It can be all of it at once - miraculous and brutal, sacred and violent, the best and worst thing that ever happened to your body. Holding that complexity without trying to resolve it feels like the only honest way through. I'm so grateful you saw that in the piece. Thank you for being here💙
Perfectly said and congrats on your newest grandchild! I recall also hiding in bathroom stalls while breastfeeding. What was I so ashamed of? So much has changed in the last 27 years and I’m glad for all the moms and moms to be of today. Be proud — bodily fluids, breasts, and all!
Maureen, isn't it wild how we can look back and wonder what we were so ashamed of? But we know exactly what we were ashamed of - we'd been taught that shame our whole lives. I'm grateful too that our daughters and granddaughters are inheriting something different, even if we're still fighting for it. Thank you for being here, friend. Your presence in this community means so much. 💜
This is absolutely one of the best things I've read of late. I love how you combined the miracle of birth together with the reality about how girsl/women are trained to keep some things hidden. As you do, with the birth of my three grandbabies, I revisited my own experiences. A lot has changed, yes, but certainly a lot has not. I do love how women these days wear the form-fitting clothing right through the entire nine months. A far cry from the full, flowing tops I wore.
I hadn't really thought about how we hide, even feel shame, after the birthing. Blood - don't let anyone see that. Of course, this was true when we started mensturating, too. Don't let that truth 'leak' out. Pun intended. I vividly recall being shown a movie about mensturating when I was in fifth or sixth grade. We were told to tell the boys we saw a movie about babysitting. How ridiculous was that? I wrote about that in my memoir intro, as it's something that really stuck with me. I started mensturating in 6th grade and there weren't even any feminine products in the girls' bathroom because clearly elementary age girls weren't in need. Crazy.
Finally, and most importantly, congratualtions on the birth of Hayes. He's beautiful. Enjoy every minute you get holding a newborn. It's one of the greatest joys in life for me. Nothing compares. Wonderful essay. Thank you.
Nancy, that detail about being told to say you watched a movie about babysitting - I remember that, too! The lie we were supposed to tell the boys, as if menstruation was shameful rather than just...biology. And of course there were no products in elementary bathrooms. We weren't supposed to need them yet, and if we did, we certainly weren't supposed to talk about it. That training started so early, didn't it? No wonder we carried it right into birth and breastfeeding. I'm so glad this resonated with you, and yes - holding Hayes has been pure joy. Thank you for being here and for sharing your own memories. They matter. 💜
Congrats on the new baby, and on another wonderful essay.
After I birthed my pumpkin headed twins, I had NO IDEA that I'd be so sore and seem to occupy a body that wasn't my own. I thought I'd never pee without pain or even have sex again because I was so torn up "down there."
I wondered why my sisters and friends hadn't told me that part about childbirth, and I was frankly very annoyed with all of them! Since then, I've been vocal to first time pregnant moms about what to expect but reassure them that the body will return to normal eventually.
We need more moms to spread the word, so thank you for starting this conversation.
Kristy, YES! The silence around postpartum recovery is maddening! We all act like once the baby's out, you're fine, when the reality is weeks (months!) of pain and wondering if your body will ever feel like yours again. I love that you've become the person who tells first-time moms the truth. That's exactly what we need - not to scare them, but to let them know they're not alone or broken when it's hard. And pumpkin-headed twins?! You're a warrior. Thank you for being here, friend. 💜
Beautifully said, Ilona. I am reminded of two distinct things as I read your story. One is that, as women, we are the ones who clean up the messes in life: broken toys, dirty dishes, spring cleaning, etc. Why would it not stand to reason that we would hide the messy parts of birth, sadly? Secondly, I had a lovely memory of my late spouse, who was there through all the nitty-gritty of births and somehow found the most incredible beauty in the process, mess and all. What a gift he was to me.
I am so profoundly happy for you with the birth of this grandchild. It seems that more young people are avoiding parenthood because the world seems so broken to them. I believe that raising aware, emotional, and inquiring children is the solution to so many ills. Grandparents play a significant role in the process, as I have learned!
Candy, oh that observation about women cleaning up messes hits hard. Of course we'd extend that to our own bodies, our own blood. We've been trained to tidy everything, including ourselves. And what a gift your spouse gave you, being able to witness the mess and the magnificence together without needing you to hide or apologize. That's the kind of partnership that changes everything. You're right too about grandparents - we get to help raise these aware, questioning kids without some of the exhaustion and fear that comes with being in the thick of it. What a privilege. Thank you for this beautiful reflection.
Congratulations on your new grandson! He’s beautiful!
I was at the birth of my grandson and it was so calm it amazed me. That mostly was because of the doctor’s manner. She was very calm, soothing, matter of fact “ ok, we’re going to push now”
I don’t remember things being so calm when I gave birth but honestly, both times from beginning to end, it was at most 8 hours. I do agree that we’re making progress in not “hiding” the realities of birth but we do have a ways to go.
Carol, what a gift to be there for your grandson's birth! That calm doctor sounds like exactly what every laboring woman deserves - someone who treats it as the powerful, normal thing it is rather than a medical emergency. I'm so glad your daughter had that experience. Progress is happening, even if it's slower than we'd like. 💜
Thank you for introducing me to the sculpture, "Crowning," and the story of its beheading. Geez! What a gorgeous piece of art. And how is it that we're backsliding the way we are with women? Well, I know some of the elements too well, but it still feels shocking at times—cheers to your daughters and all young women who feel confident speaking about the entire magnificent process.
Paulette, the sculpture is stunning, which makes the violence against it even more telling. And you're right, the backsliding is shocking. But my daughters and their generation give me hope. They're not going back quietly. Thank you for reading and good wishes.
Daisy, yes! That's a whole other layer of it. We've made some progress in how we talk about birth, but the structural support is still so lacking. Six weeks (if you're lucky) and then back to work, often still healing, sleep-deprived, trying to figure out breastfeeding. We celebrate motherhood in the abstract but don't actually support mothers in the concrete. Thank you for naming that.
I will never look at another beer ad without thinking of you :)
Seriously, two things. What an absolutely beautiful letter. And spot on about our only slightly evolved attitudes about women, birthing, feeding - caring for. Well done!
And it's nice to hear of a relatively easy birthing by your daughter.
Bill, mission accomplished then! 🤣 🍺 😊 And yes, watching my daughter have a relatively smooth third birth felt like such a gift. Thank you for reading and for always being so thoughtful in your responses.
Beautifully stated — the reality of motherhood ! How fortunate your children are to have you as their mom, and how lucky you are to be a grand mother. You should repost this piece on Mother’s Day as a reminder to all.
Karen, I love the Mother's Day idea and you're right, we need these reminders. And I'm the lucky one, getting to watch my daughters mother with such honesty and strength. Thank you for reading.
First of all, congratulations! Secondly, you are so right about this subject! I remember feeling a lot of shame about what was happening to my body in the weeks and even months after giving birth. When friends would stop by, my anxiety was through the roof. I couldn't fit into my clothes and couldn't control when my milk came in, etc. What cultures do to us is so strange to me.
Linda, thank you and I'm so sorry you carried that shame. The anxiety of friends stopping by when your body is doing what it's supposed to do but you can't control any of it - that's such a specific kind of stress that so many women know intimately.
What gets me is that we're made to feel ashamed of exactly what our bodies are designed to do. The milk, the healing, the transformation. It's all normal and necessary, but we're expected to hide it, apologize for it, or somehow have it all tidied up for visitors.
You're right - what cultures do to us IS strange. We celebrate pregnancy, celebrate the baby, but act like the messy, powerful reality of what happens to a woman's body in between is somehow inappropriate.
Thank you for naming this.
Congratulations to you and your daughter and the rest of the family on precious Hayes!
I had a Catholic mother (8 kids) who was pretty uncomfortable telling me about menstruation never mind anything else. (I was the first girl. Things may have been more relaxed with my little sister, I don’t know.) She handed 12 year old me a pamphlet about menstruation that Kotex put out and told me to let her know if I had any questions after reading it. It ended rather abruptly, leading me to quite naturally ask her “well, how does the egg get fertilized?” She was flustered by the question and told me she would explain it when I was a little older. Of course, we never had that conversation - I had to learn it on the street lol. It became a joke between us in later years - a NOW will you tell me? kind of thing e.g. after I gave birth to my third child.
One might think I would have been bewildered or shy or confused about pregnancy, birth, etc. with that upbringing but I was surprisingly chill about it. Possibly because my pregnancies were the best I ever felt emotionally and physically in my life - no smoking, no drinking, healthy eating, of course, but also I really think my hormones or dopamine or whatever became “normal” in a way that they never were or have been otherwise. (I did have a serious post partum depression after my third thought).
I also didn’t care what anyone thought re my parenting. I was very confident around infants and also refused to hide myself when I was breast feeding which I know left both sets of grandparents non-plusses. I wasn’t outrageously indiscreet but neither did I care if you saw my breast or if it offended you. My father grumbled once I remember but no one else ever did to my face.
It’s a great topic!
Donna, I love everything about this, especially your mother handing you a Kotex pamphlet and the joke between you that lasted for years. And the fact that despite all that silence and discomfort around you, you found your way to confidence anyway, refusing to hide while breastfeeding even with your father grumbling. That's exactly the kind of quiet rebellion that changes things, one generation at a time. Your daughters (and now their kids) got to see what it looks like when a woman doesn't apologize for her body doing its work. That matters so much. Thank you for sharing this.
I’m not sure I have any right to comment, but I want to say just a few things. First, congratulations to you and your daughter. A birth is one of the universe’s miraculous events. Married for over 50 years to my patient and forgiving wife, I’ve always tried to see, sense things from her perspective. I know that’s not completely possible for a man, but I appreciate the things you’ve written, Ilona, because it adds to my limited knowledge base of sorts as to what it means to see and experience the world as a woman. Thank you and best wishes to three generations born of love.
Keith, of course you have the right to comment - this conversation needs men who are willing to listen and learn, not just women sharing with each other. Your willingness to see from your wife's perspective, to admit the limits of that while still trying - that's exactly what we need more of. The fact that you've been doing that work for 50+ years of marriage is beautiful. Thank you for being here and for your thoughtful presence in this community. It matters.
What struck me most is how you honored both the miracle and the trauma without trying to smooth the tension between them. That feels rare. Birth stories often get flattened into either triumph or damage, celebration or silence.
Holding both realities at once feels truer to lived experience. Your writing allowed space for gratitude without erasing harm, for wonder without denial. That balance stayed with me. It made me reflect on how often we demand neat emotional conclusions from experiences that were never neat to begin with. Welcome to the world, Hayes!
Thank you for this, Dr. A. You've articulated something I was reaching for but hadn't quite named. You're right that we're always pushed to make it one thing or the other: beautiful OR traumatic, empowering OR damaging. But birth (like most profound experiences) refuses those neat categories. It can be all of it at once - miraculous and brutal, sacred and violent, the best and worst thing that ever happened to your body. Holding that complexity without trying to resolve it feels like the only honest way through. I'm so grateful you saw that in the piece. Thank you for being here💙
Congratulations, Ilona! Beautiful piece with important reminders.
Thank you, Sue! I appreciate you being here and reading. 💜
Perfectly said and congrats on your newest grandchild! I recall also hiding in bathroom stalls while breastfeeding. What was I so ashamed of? So much has changed in the last 27 years and I’m glad for all the moms and moms to be of today. Be proud — bodily fluids, breasts, and all!
Maureen, isn't it wild how we can look back and wonder what we were so ashamed of? But we know exactly what we were ashamed of - we'd been taught that shame our whole lives. I'm grateful too that our daughters and granddaughters are inheriting something different, even if we're still fighting for it. Thank you for being here, friend. Your presence in this community means so much. 💜
I’m so glad we crossed paths 🥰
Samesies.
Hi Ilona,
This is absolutely one of the best things I've read of late. I love how you combined the miracle of birth together with the reality about how girsl/women are trained to keep some things hidden. As you do, with the birth of my three grandbabies, I revisited my own experiences. A lot has changed, yes, but certainly a lot has not. I do love how women these days wear the form-fitting clothing right through the entire nine months. A far cry from the full, flowing tops I wore.
I hadn't really thought about how we hide, even feel shame, after the birthing. Blood - don't let anyone see that. Of course, this was true when we started mensturating, too. Don't let that truth 'leak' out. Pun intended. I vividly recall being shown a movie about mensturating when I was in fifth or sixth grade. We were told to tell the boys we saw a movie about babysitting. How ridiculous was that? I wrote about that in my memoir intro, as it's something that really stuck with me. I started mensturating in 6th grade and there weren't even any feminine products in the girls' bathroom because clearly elementary age girls weren't in need. Crazy.
Finally, and most importantly, congratualtions on the birth of Hayes. He's beautiful. Enjoy every minute you get holding a newborn. It's one of the greatest joys in life for me. Nothing compares. Wonderful essay. Thank you.
Nancy, that detail about being told to say you watched a movie about babysitting - I remember that, too! The lie we were supposed to tell the boys, as if menstruation was shameful rather than just...biology. And of course there were no products in elementary bathrooms. We weren't supposed to need them yet, and if we did, we certainly weren't supposed to talk about it. That training started so early, didn't it? No wonder we carried it right into birth and breastfeeding. I'm so glad this resonated with you, and yes - holding Hayes has been pure joy. Thank you for being here and for sharing your own memories. They matter. 💜
Congrats on the new baby, and on another wonderful essay.
After I birthed my pumpkin headed twins, I had NO IDEA that I'd be so sore and seem to occupy a body that wasn't my own. I thought I'd never pee without pain or even have sex again because I was so torn up "down there."
I wondered why my sisters and friends hadn't told me that part about childbirth, and I was frankly very annoyed with all of them! Since then, I've been vocal to first time pregnant moms about what to expect but reassure them that the body will return to normal eventually.
We need more moms to spread the word, so thank you for starting this conversation.
Kristy, YES! The silence around postpartum recovery is maddening! We all act like once the baby's out, you're fine, when the reality is weeks (months!) of pain and wondering if your body will ever feel like yours again. I love that you've become the person who tells first-time moms the truth. That's exactly what we need - not to scare them, but to let them know they're not alone or broken when it's hard. And pumpkin-headed twins?! You're a warrior. Thank you for being here, friend. 💜
Beautifully said, Ilona. I am reminded of two distinct things as I read your story. One is that, as women, we are the ones who clean up the messes in life: broken toys, dirty dishes, spring cleaning, etc. Why would it not stand to reason that we would hide the messy parts of birth, sadly? Secondly, I had a lovely memory of my late spouse, who was there through all the nitty-gritty of births and somehow found the most incredible beauty in the process, mess and all. What a gift he was to me.
I am so profoundly happy for you with the birth of this grandchild. It seems that more young people are avoiding parenthood because the world seems so broken to them. I believe that raising aware, emotional, and inquiring children is the solution to so many ills. Grandparents play a significant role in the process, as I have learned!
Candy, oh that observation about women cleaning up messes hits hard. Of course we'd extend that to our own bodies, our own blood. We've been trained to tidy everything, including ourselves. And what a gift your spouse gave you, being able to witness the mess and the magnificence together without needing you to hide or apologize. That's the kind of partnership that changes everything. You're right too about grandparents - we get to help raise these aware, questioning kids without some of the exhaustion and fear that comes with being in the thick of it. What a privilege. Thank you for this beautiful reflection.
Beautiful baby, congrats granny Lolo!!!
Lolo solidarity! 😊 Thank you for the restack - your support means so much.
Congratulations on your new grandson! He’s beautiful!
I was at the birth of my grandson and it was so calm it amazed me. That mostly was because of the doctor’s manner. She was very calm, soothing, matter of fact “ ok, we’re going to push now”
I don’t remember things being so calm when I gave birth but honestly, both times from beginning to end, it was at most 8 hours. I do agree that we’re making progress in not “hiding” the realities of birth but we do have a ways to go.
Carol, what a gift to be there for your grandson's birth! That calm doctor sounds like exactly what every laboring woman deserves - someone who treats it as the powerful, normal thing it is rather than a medical emergency. I'm so glad your daughter had that experience. Progress is happening, even if it's slower than we'd like. 💜
Congratulations, Ilona!
Thank you for introducing me to the sculpture, "Crowning," and the story of its beheading. Geez! What a gorgeous piece of art. And how is it that we're backsliding the way we are with women? Well, I know some of the elements too well, but it still feels shocking at times—cheers to your daughters and all young women who feel confident speaking about the entire magnificent process.
Paulette, the sculpture is stunning, which makes the violence against it even more telling. And you're right, the backsliding is shocking. But my daughters and their generation give me hope. They're not going back quietly. Thank you for reading and good wishes.
Then I have hope, too!
Congratulations and all so true. If only woman didn’t have to work until the day of birth and return to work so quickly after!
Daisy, yes! That's a whole other layer of it. We've made some progress in how we talk about birth, but the structural support is still so lacking. Six weeks (if you're lucky) and then back to work, often still healing, sleep-deprived, trying to figure out breastfeeding. We celebrate motherhood in the abstract but don't actually support mothers in the concrete. Thank you for naming that.
I will never look at another beer ad without thinking of you :)
Seriously, two things. What an absolutely beautiful letter. And spot on about our only slightly evolved attitudes about women, birthing, feeding - caring for. Well done!
And it's nice to hear of a relatively easy birthing by your daughter.
Bill, mission accomplished then! 🤣 🍺 😊 And yes, watching my daughter have a relatively smooth third birth felt like such a gift. Thank you for reading and for always being so thoughtful in your responses.
Congratulations!
Thank you, dear Jessica!