Learning to Care for Myself Again

Recently, I was forced to take a closer look at my health and really evaluate how I’ve been taking care of myself, seven months postpartum.

I’ve always thought of myself as someone who takes really good care of her body. I choose organic food whenever I can. I cook most of our meals at home. When we eat out, I naturally gravitate toward restaurants with more wholesome, real food. And it doesn’t come from restriction. I genuinely like eating this way. I feel better when I’m nourishing myself instead of filling my body with processed crap.

So in my mind, I was healthy.

But recently, I realized that while I’ve been putting a lot of effort into certain areas of my health, there were some pretty big gaps I wasn’t seeing.

Sleep is obviously one of them. I have a little baby, and I haven’t slept through an entire night in more than seven months. There’s only so much I can control about that right now.

But movement is something I can control more. Yes, I’m constantly picking up a baby, carrying her, putting her down, getting on the floor, getting back up. It takes energy. But I’m not really getting cardiovascular exercise. I’m not getting my heart rate up. I’m not pushing, pulling and lifting things that challenge my muscles. And I can feel my body craving it. I’ve actually noticed myself getting weaker and weaker.

And interestingly, I’ve also been having trouble falling asleep. I have a feeling part of it is that my body simply isn’t getting enough physical exertion during the day. I miss that feeling of really using my body.

But probably the biggest realization has been stress. I didn’t fully recognize how much stress I was carrying every single day because it looks completely different from the stress I had when I was working full time. My days are technically slower now. I’m home taking care of my baby. I don’t have Zoom calls to jump onto or problems to deal with.

But internally, there has been this constant sense of urgency.

She needs to nap by this time. What if we leave the house and she gets upset? What if she cries in the car? I need to quickly go to the bathroom before she needs me. I need to shower quickly before she wakes up from a nap. Brush my teeth quickly. Make food quickly. Eat quickly. Often times I’m literally eating with one hand while holding a baby with the other. Rush, rush, rush.

And I started asking myself: Why am I rushing? There actually isn’t anywhere I need to be. There are no fires that need to be put down. It’s okay if she naps five minutes later. It’s okay if she fusses for a couple of minutes while I finish my shower. I don’t have to wash my hair like someone is timing me. I don’t have to inhale my lunch standing at the kitchen counter. My body doesn’t know that I’m “just trying to get things done.” It only knows that I’m constantly moving as though something urgent is happening.

And lately, my body has been telling me that it’s time to slow down. I’m realizing that taking care of myself in this season has to look different. Health isn’t only about what I eat or whether the food in my refrigerator is organic.

It’s going outside and putting my bare feet in the grass or sand. It’s lifting weights for 15 or 20 minutes, even if that’s all I have, and slowly rebuilding my strength. It’s taking my time washing my hair. Lighting a candle in the evening and have a cup of tea. Being present with whatever I’m doing instead of already mentally racing toward the next thing. Breathing slowly. Breathing deeply. And reminding myself that not everything is urgent.

Maybe taking care of my body right now isn’t about doing more. Maybe, in some ways, it’s about finally learning how to really slow down.