Mini Milestones for Postpartum

Because the unspoken things are often the ones that need to be celebrated the most.

There’s something entirely unique about the physicality of coming home from the hospital with your baby. If you’ve done this before, you don’t need me to paint a picture of the beautiful chaos involved when looking after a sweet, helpless little babe while still being a patient yourself. Throw a c-section or traumatic birth in there and life is just bananas those first few weeks. There’s a lot of…stuff going on with both yours and the baby’s bodies. 

If you’re pregnant with your first and reading this, don’t worry! We get through those hazy postpartum weeks. And now a few months after delivering my third baby (and second c-section), I may have something that continues to bring a light at the end of the foggy recovery tunnel. 

The mini milestones checklist. 

Yes, there are common and popular milestones you’ll be checking in regards to your baby’s development. Is he rooting? Can he lift his head? Is he rolling over by however many months? Yes, those are important. But what about the unshared milestones? 

What about the little wins that help you fix your eyes on hope? 

My world was a little rocked when we got home from the hospital with our third baby. It had been over six years since I had last danced this dance of patient and caregiver. Oh, there was SO much good in those hazy first days. I was older this time around (hello, geriatric pregnancy!), calmer, I knew what to expect. The older boys were six and eight, meaning they still needed me but in less demanding ways than when I juggled a newborn and toddler all those years ago. 

But like I said, I was older this time around. Older as in, you throw your back out just by sleeping funny the night before. And honestly I had forgotten the toll that delivery can take on my body. Of my three deliveries this was my second c-section, so in a sense I knew what to expect. This one, however, drained me differently. Literally. I lost too much blood and looked like an actual ghost for several days afterwards. Not a cute look. 

I remember going right back to my old panicked way of thinking, “Things will never be normal again,” “I will never feel like myself again,” or the all-time classic “What have we done?!” If you’ve never had those thoughts before, let’s just pretend you didn’t hear them from me, either. 

It’s a beautiful mix of bliss, exhaustion, oxytocin-fused snuggles, pain, gratitude, and a tinge of anxiety. But let’s focus on recovery. Things turned around for me in a positive way when I began to acknowledge the mini milestones of baby’s and my progress. The first couple of weeks looked like this: 

Baby:

  • His umbilical stump fell off! No more folding diapers under his belly button
  • His circumcision is healed! No more squirting vaseline all over him 
  • His weight gain is steady! No more frequent checks at the doctor’s office
  • The jaundice is clear! No more heel pricks 

Obviously, each baby’s mini milestones would look different.

Mine were a little more graphic and c-section specific:

Mom:

  • I went to the bathroom and didn’t die! IYKYK
  • I stopped taking Ibuprofen and Tylenol! No more tracking every six hours
  • The sutures fell off! No more Jack-o-lantern smile on my belly
  • I walked down the street!
  • I wore real pants! 
  • I drove my van!
  • No more ice packs! No more heat pads!
  • I can stand up straight in the shower now!
  • We kind of, sort of, have a feeding/pumping schedule worked out (that one took longer this time around)!

You get the point. And in case you’re wondering, YES, the exclamation points are necessary. We’re hyping ourselves up, remember?

It may not feel like it when you’re in the thick of things, but all of this is so temporary. It won’t be long until your family has found its new rhythm, and adjusted to the new ‘normal.’ That newborn will transform from, let’s face it, a bit of a potato, to a vibrant, smiling, babbling little baby. You’ll love that phase, but want to know the kicker? You’ll ache to go back to those early trenches again.

But that’s just motherhood. 

Local Order Form

I am so appreciative of the support Praying Through it All has already received. I’ve been blessed with wonderful friends and readers, that’s for sure! I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but it’s quite a scary thing to put something personal out in the world (it’s a big reason I haven’t done much marketing this time around!).

I’ve created a Google Form for local folks who would like to order a copy directly through me. To be fully transparent, this option is best for the author. I’ll also be sharing an Ingram direct link this week (hopefully!). Basically direct orders allow me to keep more of the royalties.

Here is the order form. Thank you!

Surprise!

I have a new book…and it’s out today! Praying Through it All is a collection of essays, stories, and poems that weaves humor and heart for all mothers. This book was such a joy to put together, and I just cannot wait to share it with readers. Praying Through it All is available on Amazon or directly through me.

Social (media) Detox

I’ve managed to keep off of Facebook and Instagram for a little over a month now. It feels AMAZING to untether myself from that addiction. But how will I connect with readers and provide updates? Hopefully from here, which means I’ll need to be much more intentional about this space.

My plan is to update the website more regularly. So what have you missed since my last post? Well my first self-published book, THE LINN COUNTY FAMILY OUTDOOR GUIDE, is out and in the community. What a fun adventure this has been! I have another library visit in the works, so check back here for more information in the coming weeks.

Are you local and interested in ordering your own copy? Check out Swampfox, Next Page Books, Scout, or the Marion Chamber of Commerce. You can also order directly through me at a discounted price: https://forms.gle/yuTP1PwFzSoc47hL6. Non-local orders are still available through Amazon.

So what’s next? I’m currently revising a cozy romance novel set in Iowa during the farmer’s market season. And yes, the research has been just so fun and delicious.

Are you interested in reading a bit of my new project? Email me! I’m looking for a couple of beta readers to offer timely and honest feedback. You can write me at BriannaBaranowskiWriter@gmail.com.

I think that’s all for now. Enjoy the last fleeting moments of summer, rest assured glorious fall is almost ready to arrive and wow us all.

The Linn County Family Outdoor Guide is almost here!

In two days we get to celebrate not only the first day of spring, but also the official launch of THE LINN COUNTY FAMILY OUTDOOR GUIDE! This resource is perfect for families and visitors of Linn County. Find a new place to visit, try completing a bucket list, or check out specific places based on your interests (fishing, places to bring your dog, creek stomping-I’ve got you covered!).

You can buy the book directly through me, Ingram (retailers only), Amazon, and soon at a few of your favorite local bookstores.

Link to purchase through me: here

If using Ingram, the ISBN is: 979-8-218-38441-8

Amazon link: here

Exciting Announcement!

After months of research and writing, I’m so proud to announce that THE LINN COUNTY FAMILY OUTDOOR GUIDE will launch on March 19th (the first day of spring)!

THE LINN COUNTY FAMILY OUTDOOR GUIDE is a family-friendly resource that encourages readers to take their kids outside and enjoy local nature. Focusing on Linn County, Iowa, this book provides comprehensive research on all Linn County parks, Iowa state parks within Linn County, and Linn County trails, preserves, and natural areas (with several bonus areas highlighted as well). It also weaves a motivational narrative meant to be relatable and uplifting. I believe that a book like this is needed in our area, especially in a time when American kids are spending less than ten minutes a day outside. 

Stayed tuned here and on Facebook for more information, as I’m still currently logged off Instagram for lent.

Monarchs

My mama and my grandma

and the woman before-

she migrated north and fluttered some more.

With broke down wings and metal grill screams,

they beat and they bled to set me free.

Women drank the poison, toxins swimming in their veins,

all for me to end up soft, can’t take no pain.

Took three generations to break their curse

just to die, but they laid their hope down first.

I try to carry their strength upon my back-

I’m flyin’ south, flutters whisper all I lack.

Because of the women before, I will migrate-

I owe it all to them…they are my great.

Able to soar high, or at least I’ll try-

leaning on their generation’s borrowed traits.

Fragile Hope

To love someone with an addiction is to have your heart broken time and time again. You mourn them while they’re still alive. As their cheeks hollow and their soul slowly simmers to sour, you know part of them is already gone. And I know it sounds negative to say this next part out loud, but even their recovery is a million opportunities to be ripped open at any moment’s notice. 

Recovery from addiction is a fragile, delicate thing. It’s a hatchling too close to the edge of its nest, thinking about jumping before its feathers have arrived. It’s a bead of condensation slowly slipping from a glass left outside in the heat. It’s a snowflake that lands on your finger, displaying all its intricate glory for mere moments.

But unlike the snowflake, or the water drop, or the defenseless state of the bird, recovery doesn’t have to be temporary. It can be permanent. Solid. As forever as an infinity symbol or God’s love. The only problem is, we never know the outcome of a loved one’s journey to getting (and staying) clean ahead of time. We never really know if this time it’s going to stick. And that uncertainty is the biggest gamble on heartbreak I can imagine. 

Because when do you know it’s time for tough love? Or time to turn away from who they have become? How do you dare yourself to celebrate their milestones towards sobriety while relapse stares you down from behind them? When do you decide to allow yourself the chance of pain and disappointment in order to love and support them with open arms and hope abound? 

I sure don’t know the answer, but I do know that the people in your life who love an addict are wrestling with these questions daily. 

I’ve witnessed people pull themselves out of the pits of despair and get themselves clean. It wasn’t without setbacks, but it happened. And I love people who I thought for sure would never backslide, only to know they’re active in their addiction again. I’ve lost loved ones because of their addictions, feeling the weight of pain but not of surprise or disbelief. I’m mourning loved ones who are currently very much alive, even if I know I can’t recognize them right now. 

Again, I don’t know the answers. And if you’re in recovery, I think you’re the strongest kind of person that can exist. You should be so proud of how far you’ve come. Or, if you’re  hoping to get clean, I don’t know the best path for your journey. But I know it’s possible, and life giving. And I also know it can’t happen while you’re living under the same circumstances that brought you down. You can’t be clean and still hang around addicts. You can’t be clean and think you can handle this alone. Please, for the people who already miss you- find your support, cling to a healthy routine, and free yourself from what holds you hostage. 

Counterintuitive Cures

How confronting winter elements head-on helped quell my Seasonal Affective Disorder symptoms

When deciding to attempt the #1000hoursoutside challenge, I knew winter would be my Everest. How could I possibly spend time outside during the months that made me want to curl up and hibernate until May? The mere minutes I was spending between getting out of my SUV and into my work building were barely tolerable. I even hated ‘winter’ when living in California (which yes, seems ridiculous now, but it’s a thing!). This was an especially risky move after the darkness of last year.

I experienced a deep seated period of resentment about living in the Midwest last spring. It had been a frigid winter and even though the calendar was saying positive messages like ‘April’ or even ‘May,’ it just seemed to remain an eternally dreary and damp season. I begged my husband to move us back to California more than a few times, if only to feel the heat of the sun on my skin again.

Truthfully, I was worried for winter to arrive this year. I was bracing myself for another episode of sadness and hopelessness.

To say the outdoor challenge came at the right time is an understatement I contemplate often. Here I was, preparing to deal with the after-holiday lull of gray January, and I had decided to venture outside. Silly! What was I thinking? But confronting the elements was exactly the perspective I needed to not only appreciate, but enjoy the beauty of an Iowa winter. For suddenly I was spotting bald eagles and startling a herd of deer and discovering the cutest little fungi clinging to the trees. My eyes were twinkling at the multi-faceted splendor of ice encasing a magnificently alive forest. It’s been the best medicine (here is my disclaimer that I’m not suggesting nature is a cure-all for depression. I am not a doctor, obviously).

So as March rolls in and spring eventually makes its debut, I’m ready to welcome it with open arms like a friend I haven’t seen since, well, last year. I’ll stomp in puddles and delight in freshly sprouted buds. I’ll probably complain about the bugs and fickle nature of the rain.

But for the first time, I’ll also be a little bit sad to see winter leave.

2023 hours so far: 70.5