The First Six Weeks: What Nobody Tells First-Time Mums

Because the baby books left out the chaos, the crying, and the cold coffee.

You’ve done it. You’ve grown a baby, birthed a baby, and now you’re home with a baby. And nothing feels the way you thought it would.

Your body’s sore in places you didn’t know could hurt. You’re leaking from everywhere. You’ve cried over a banana. And the sleep deprivation? It's on another level.

Everyone told you what to pack in your hospital bag. No one told you what it would feel like to be standing in the kitchen at 3am, breastfeeding in one sock, wondering if you’re broken.

This isn’t here to scare you. It’s here to tell you the truth. The stuff most people skip over. The stuff that might make you feel a little more seen and a little less alone.

So here it is. The truth about those first six weeks. The raw bits, the weird bits, and the beautiful, messy middle no one puts on Instagram.

So You’ve Had a Baby… Now What?

Congrats, mama. You just grew and birthed a whole human. That’s superhero-level stuff. But now you're home, leaking from everywhere, wearing a nappy-sized pad, and holding a baby who screams the second you sit down.

Wondering if it's meant to feel this intense? Short answer: yep. And no. And also, you're definitely not the only one Googling “is it normal to cry while reheating tea for the fourth time?”

This is your no-fluff guide to what the first six weeks really feel like. Because no one warned us how bonkers it would be, and you deserve the truth.

What Happens to Your Body After Giving Birth?

Whether you pushed, were cut, or had a sunroof exit (hi, C-section), your body is in full-on recovery mode. And spoiler alert—it’s not exactly spa vibes.

• Bleeding (aka lochia): Think period x10. It can last up to six weeks and might catch you off guard with how full-on it is. Totally normal. Still annoying.
  
• Afterpains: These are uterus cramps that show up mostly when you’re feeding. They feel like mini contractions, because your uterus is shrinking back down. Yay, biology.
  
• Stitches and swelling: Peeing might burn. Sitting might hurt. Even farting can feel like a betrayal. Rest isn’t just nice, it’s necessary.
  
• C-section recovery: This is major surgery. You’re allowed to move slowly, cry when you laugh, and avoid anything with the word “core.”
  
• Hormones going haywire: Night sweats, mood swings, sudden crying because a nappy ad made you emotional. Yep, that’s the ride.

There’s no bouncing back. There’s just healing, and you get to do it at your own pace.

Why Is Feeding So Hard? I Thought It Would Just Happen

They make it look easy. Spoiler: it’s not.

• Breastfeeding: Might hurt like hell, be awkward as anything, or just not work right away. That doesn’t mean you’re failing.
  
• Bottle-feeding: Still hard work. You’re sterilising, prepping, soothing, and maybe even justifying your choices to strangers.
  
• Mixed feeding: 100% allowed. It doesn’t mean you’re confused. It means you’re doing what works.

Bottom line? Fed is best. Always. And no one else gets a vote.

Get support early. A lactation consultant can work miracles. So can that one friend who answers your midnight rants with “yep, same.”

How Much Sleep Should a Newborn Get?

The baby books say 16 hours a day. What they don’t say is it’ll be in 27-minute intervals, mostly while you’re standing up.

• Expect feeds every 2–3 hours. Yes, that includes nights.
  
• Some babies will only sleep on your chest. That’s not spoiling them. That’s survival.
  
• There is no routine. There is only caffeine and blind hope.

Grab rest wherever you can. Even ten minutes on the couch counts. And yes, the washing can wait.

Is It Normal to Feel Like I’m Falling Apart?

Oh yes. Utterly, completely normal.

• Baby blues: Usually hit days 3–5. You’ll cry over a nappy ad, a lukewarm cup of tea, or nothing at all. It usually passes in a week or two.
  
• Postnatal anxiety or depression: If the low doesn’t lift, or if you feel overwhelmed, numb, or just not yourself for more than a couple of weeks, please talk to someone. Your GP, a psychologist, or PANDA (they’re brilliant and kind).
  
• You might feel rage. Or guilt. Or disconnected. That’s not failure. That’s your brain trying to keep up with the emotional earthquake.

You’re doing so much while healing. Be gentle with yourself.

Why Does Everyone Have an Opinion?

Welcome to motherhood, where strangers in the supermarket will weigh in on your feeding choices like it’s a public vote.

• Unsolicited advice: Nod. Smile. Ignore.
• Visitors: You don’t owe anyone baby cuddles or a clean house. You can say “no” or “not today” or “sure, but bring food.”
• Your instincts: They’re real. And right. You know your baby better than anyone.

People mean well, but you get to choose what actually helps. Boundaries aren’t rude. They’re a sanity-saver.

When Will I Feel Like Myself Again?

Real talk? You won’t go back to who you were. You’ll grow into someone new.

The first six weeks are a fog. Some days you’ll sob in the shower. Other days you’ll feel like Beyoncé. Most days are somewhere in between.

You’re not meant to love every second. That whole “savour every moment” thing? Lovely sentiment, unrealistic standard.

It does get better. Slowly. Sometimes so slowly you don’t even notice, until one day you’re laughing without wincing or sleeping longer than two hours and thinking, “Okay. I’ve got this.”

Final Thought: You’re Doing So Much Better Than You Think

This time is raw. Exhausting. Beautiful. Terrifying. You might not recognise yourself some days. That’s okay.

Every new mum has had a moment of wondering if they’re cut out for this. You are.

You’re not failing. You’re figuring it out. You’re becoming someone even stronger. And that’s bloody brave.

Ever felt like this? What helped you through the fog? Share your story in the comments. You should never feel like you are the only one, because you're not