“So much of what I went through is stuff I stressed about unnecessarily; I didn’t know how normal it was,” says 32-year-old Michelle, when describing the first three months after giving birth to her daughter.

How many postpartum mums have said those same words? I’d hazard a guess at millions.

I’m not a mum, although I hope to be. But one thing that terrifies me is what on earth will happen to my body in those three months after giving birth; because we still don’t talk about it. We know about the more socially ‘palatable’ difficulties all new mums go through – lack of sleep, for example – but what about the areas that are deemed ‘too much information’, or simply ‘too gross’? Once we get to a certain level of vagina-related depth, it’s like the insights and information fizzle out and we’re left with muffled static.

I don’t blame new mums for not divulging every last detail about their postpartum blood clots over coffee. It’s natural for them to assume that ‘no one wants to hear about this stuff’ – because our patriarchal society tells us that gynaecological issues are, at best, embarrassing; at worst, disgusting.

But postpartum bodies aren’t embarrassing or disgusting. They’re normal; not to mention awe-inspiring, given what they’ve just been through (namely, childbirth).

And I’m desperate to hear about all of it. I want to know what could happen to my body immediately after I’ve given birth; not to scare myself, but so I’m prepared for the symptoms no one tells us about. So I can take these symptoms seriously and ask a healthcare professional for advice when needed, without working myself up into a daily state of – if my monthly PMS is anything to go by – terrified, sobbing hysteria.

Because, really, this information just isn’t accessible enough. 31-year-old Emily gave birth to her baby a couple of months ago and describes the “overwhelming amount of information” about caring for a newborn. What’s lacking, she says, is information on how to care for you. “What really shocked me – and I mean shocked – was the state I was in post-labour,” Emily tells me. “The information on caring for yourself – after your body has gone through such a change – just isn’t as readily available. All the information cropping up [online] is on baby care, so you almost feel guilty searching things to do with yourself, rather than the baby!”.

The fact that new mums are left both in shock at what’s happening to their bodies and feeling guilty for looking for answers just isn’t ok. So I resolved to speak with several new mums about every detail on their first three months postpartum. I’d need a novel-length wordcount to cover everything (I’d’ve loved to have dedicated a section to bladder control, for instance); but we discussed a range of different postpartum symptoms that you may not hear about before they happen – from the physical to the psychological.

Of course, any postpartum symptoms that cause even the slightest concern should always be checked with a healthcare professional. The point of this article isn’t to encourage anyone to dismiss any new, unusual or painful symptoms as ‘normal’ – if in doubt, always get it checked. The point is to help with any unnecessary stress or panic, as well as feelings of loneliness and isolation. Because, chances are, there are other new mums going through the exact same thing.

Breastfeeding

“Breastfeeding [can] hurt to begin with,” says Michelle. “Every midwife I met, as lovely as they all were, assured me that it wasn’t supposed to [hurt] and [that] I must be doing it wrong. They then checked mine and baby’s latch and it was perfect; it just hurt anyway.”

Of course, if breastfeeding does hurt, you should always check this with your healthcare professional; just in case there’s something more serious going on. But assuming you and your baby are healthy: As Michelle’s experience shows, if breastfeeding is painful, it doesn’t automatically mean you’re doing it ‘wrong’.

32-year-old Rosie, meanwhile, says: “My struggles with breastfeeding have been one of the loneliest things I’ve had to deal with. Breastfeeding is by far the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, including birth, and nothing irritated me more than being told by midwives that it would get easier and [that] it’s such a special bond. I remember crying to a midwife and asking them, if they were so sure it was going to get better, what the exact date it would get better on would be.”

Like Michelle, Rosie found breastfeeding very painful. “The pain when he latched while he was feeding, and when he didn’t feed enough and I got engorged, was horrendous.”

As much as Rosie hated hearing these words, though, she herself admitted that it does, indeed, get better. “I am now six months in, still exclusively breastfeeding, and the feeling of my son smiling up at me while he feeds has made all of the pain worth it,” she says.

“Breastfeeding can be one of the most rewarding experiences of early motherhood, but it’s also one of the most challenging – and it’s okay to find it both,” says women’s health nurse (and former midwife) Sarah Montagu. “While pain and difficulty are common, particularly in the early weeks, it’s important to know that midwives and healthcare professionals are there to help. If you feel you need more time or specialist guidance, there are dedicated breastfeeding support services: The National Breastfeeding Helpline (0300 100 0212)  is available 24/7 and staffed by trained volunteers who have breastfed themselves. Local breastfeeding cafes, the NCT, La Leche League and the Association of Breastfeeding Mothers are also brilliant resources if you need hands-on support.”

Hormones and Emotions

“Intrusive thoughts,” says 35-year-old Alice*, simply. “This was not covered in antenatal classes. Holy hell, the intrusive thoughts are not something I could have ever imagined. [Say my son is] on the floor and I walk past him; [my brain goes]: ‘I step on him and crush him’. I’m making a hot-water bottle; brain: ‘I pour the water all over my body and then I need to go to hospital but I can’t care for him’. [I’m] walking down the stairs; brain: ‘I fall headfirst and land on top of him’. The list is honestly endless!”

33-year-old Ileana has experienced these intrusive thoughts, too. “When [my son] was a few weeks old, I suddenly kept getting mental images of catastrophised alternative realities of what I was doing,” she says. “Like, if I was walking by the river, having visions of accidentally pushing the buggy into the water, or walking down the stairs while carrying him and seeing both of us crashing and falling down the stairs.”

Michelle describes excruciating anxiety in the weeks following her birth; “I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I was constantly full of adrenaline and it felt like there were insects crawling in my chest and my limbs constantly,” she explains. 32-year-old Hannah*, meanwhile, tells me how she couldn’t listen to music for three or four weeks: “All the songs are about love, and they all [have] the word ‘baby’ in them, and I’d just find myself crying,” she says.

And, while Rosie knew about ‘baby blues’, she freely admits she didn’t really know what that meant. “One night, my husband found me at the top of the stairs, wailing and begging for help – and looking back now, that was absolutely hormone-driven,” she says. “I think the hormonal impact that surprised me most, though, is the rage. I am not an angry person, but postpartum I feel rage like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

“The ‘baby blues’ – tearfulness, irritability and low mood – are experienced by up to 80% of new mothers and are driven by the dramatic drop in oestrogen and progesterone that happens within 24-48 hours of delivery,” Montagu explains. “Intrusive thoughts are also more common than many realise – but if they feel persistent or overwhelming, do speak to your midwife, health visitor or GP.

“If low mood extends beyond two weeks, or you’re struggling to bond with your baby or cope day-to-day, this may be postpartum depression – affecting around 1 in 10 women – and deserves professional support,” Montagu continues. “In rare cases (1 in 1000), mothers can experience postpartum psychosis, characterised by hallucinations, delusions or severe confusion,” says Montagu. “This is a psychiatric emergency – call 999 or go to A&E immediately.”

Post-Birth Injuries 

The title to this section sounds grisly; but the good news is, while some mums noticed things that shocked or scared them, they also found other areas to be much easier than expected.

Take Rosie, for example. “I [had] a second degree [vaginal] tear which needed stitches, and a graze on my labia,” she says. “Tearing was one of the things I was most worried about, prior to going into my birth; but if I’m honest, the tear itself and the subsequent recovery weren’t nearly as bad as I was expecting.

“I had no idea you could graze your labia, though, and that probably hurt more than my stitches,” Rosie continues. “The graze was really stingy, particularly when weeing, but I was given tips on how to manage that and the feeling of the stitches mostly melded in with the general discomfort of my entire pubic region following birth. I was only really aware of them on a few occasions, when they would pull as I was getting up from sitting.”

Fertility nurse specialist Deborah Maguire says: “You can usually keep stitches or labial grazes comfortable by keeping the area clean, dry, and gently rinsing with warm water after using the toilet, then patting (not wiping) to avoid irritation. It also helps to use breathable underwear and avoid pressure on the area; and if pain, swelling or signs of infection start to increase rather than settle, it’s a good moment to reach out to your midwife or GP for support.”

Emily, meanwhile, says: “The swelling I experienced down below almost had me in tears when I made my first bathroom trip post-catheter removal. I called a midwife to come and inspect what I was certain was something horrifically wrong, but turns out it’s totally normal to feel like your insides are bursting out down there. I couldn’t believe it!”

“Post-partum labial swelling is usually caused by the pressure, stretching and fluid shifts that happen during a vaginal birth, which can leave the tissues temporarily bruised and puffy,” says Maguire. “It often settles as the body heals and circulation returns to normal in the days that follow.”

Hannah had an emergency C-section, and says it was just numb for days. It’s worth knowing the scar can open up, though. Hannah had her stitches taken out on Day 5, and on Day 6: “I went to the loo and was pulling up my trousers afterwards [when] my thumb slipped, went into my C-section [scar] and opened it up; not completely, but the left corner opened about an inch.”

She phoned Maternity Triage and went to the hospital, where they swabbed her scar, checked it for infection and said they wouldn’t stitch it back up; it was best, they said, to let it heal naturally.

Now, four or five months in, Hannah emphasises that she does know others who’ve found their C-section scars painful; but says hers has healed all right and that she hasn’t been in too much pain. “Still a bit of numbness, probably a bit tender, but aside from that, all good.”

Maguire explains: “A C-section scar often feels sore, tight and tender in the first days to weeks; especially when you stand up, cough, laugh, or move from lying to sitting, because the abdominal muscles and nerves are still healing. It’s also completely normal to have reduced mobility and a pulling or stretching sensation for several weeks as the tissues repair and the area gradually regains strength and flexibility.”

“Most post-birth injuries – tears, grazes and swelling – heal well within the first few weeks, and general discomfort in the pelvic region typically resolves within a few months,” Montagu summarises. “However, if you're experiencing ongoing urinary or faecal incontinence, or pain during sex that persists beyond the first few months postpartum, please don't dismiss this as something you simply have to live with. These symptoms warrant a conversation with your GP, who can refer you for appropriate treatment.”

Vaginal Bleeding

I messaged with each mum separately – but when it came to vaginal bleeding, it was like a cacophony of voices. WhatsApps, emails and Instagram DMs seemed to tumble over each other and the mums’ messages seemed to form one unanimous chorus of ‘Blood clots! Blood clots!’.

“The clotting,” says Ileana. “Nothing could prepare me for the clots!”

“I was vaguely aware that you bleed for multiple days/weeks after giving birth, but I didn’t realise how much and I especially had no idea about the blood clots!,” agrees Michelle; and Rosie echoes: “I think the main thing I wish I’d been told is that clotting is normal.” 

“Postpartum bleeding is normal – starting heavy and bright red before gradually easing over the following weeks,” says Montagu. “Clots are common; those smaller than a 50p piece are generally not a cause for concern, but always mention them to your midwife if you’re worried.”

Ileana, in particular, found the clotting terrifying. “There were two times I actually worried I was dying because of the sheer volume of clots that exited [from] me when going to the loo,” she tells me. “I could feel a heaviness on my pelvic floor and I guess the angle of going to the toilet released all the clots at once, and I genuinely worried that my son wouldn’t know his mother.

“I called Maternity Triage; they said it was all normal and they were happy to look at photos of the clots to make sure they were ok. That really helped for peace of mind.”

Of course, while clotting is normal post-birth, it can be a sign of something more serious. “Seek urgent help if you’re soaking through pads hourly, if bleeding suddenly increases after improving, or if you notice foul-smelling blood loss; this can indicate infection or retained placenta, both of which can occur after you’ve left hospital,” explains Montagu, while Maguire adds: “Clots become a concern if they’re larger than a golf ball, keep happening, or come with heavy bleeding, dizziness or feeling unwell. [These are moments] to reach out for medical help.”

Sleep

We know sleep is hard; that’s one of the best known elements of new motherhood. But there is more to it than that. First off: ‘Sleep when the baby sleeps’ might work for some, but it doesn’t work for everyone.

“My son would only sleep while being held, so you couldn’t sleep while he was sleeping,” Rosie explains. “Instead, me and my husband did shifts, with me staying up with him until 2am-ish and [my husband] taking over until the morning and just waking me up for feeds.”

Alice is having a similar experience. “I 100% thought [my baby] would nap in a Moses basket, pram or cot from the word ‘go’ and then I could ‘sleep when he sleeps’, as we’re always told to do, but the effort to get him down for a nap not on me, coupled with the fact that it’ll probably be a short nap, just doesn’t make it worth it,” she says.

“Sleep deprivation is one of the hardest parts of new motherhood – and while it does improve for many, it doesn’t always resolve quickly on its own,” says Montagu. “If you are struggling because your baby isn’t sleeping, please don’t suffer in silence. Your Health Visitor is your first port of call and can offer guidance tailored to you and your baby. The Lullaby Trust offers evidence-based safe sleep advice, and Action for Children has practical resources to help parents navigate baby sleep. You don’t have to figure this out alone.”

And it may help you to know that, for Rosie and Michelle at least, there are lights in the tunnel. “I think it probably took six weeks before we finally got my son to sleep in his ‘Next-To-Me’ crib and not in the Moses basket downstairs or on one of us, but when that happened and I got to sleep in my own bed, it was revolutionary,” Rosie explains; while Michelle adds, “Yes, the lack of sleep is really tough – but my pre-baby self would have been staggered at how functional and efficient I am on so little sleep.

“Also, I’m not religious, but there’s an order of nuns called The Norbertine Sisters who wake up at midnight every night to pray for mothers who are awake, tired or caring for their kids in the middle of the night,” Michelle continues. “It’s such a lovely thing to know in those early hours when you’re awake and feeling alone and exhausted. I also like to think of all the other mums who are awake with me, with their kids. It really helps with the exhaustion-inducing spiralling you can get into.”

And that beautiful note feels like the perfect time to gently shift away from the blood and exhaustion, and into the plentiful joys of new motherhood.

The Joys

“I’ve never had nearly as much joy or purpose as I have found in being a parent,” says Michelle. “All the negative and medical stuff honestly seems so trivial compared to how happy it makes me. I’d do it a thousand times over to have my daughter in my life.”

“I have been genuinely pleasantly surprised by how much joy there is in early motherhood,” agrees Ileana. “I feel that everyone’s default when you’re an expectant mother is to frame everything that’s about to happen as something to brace yourself for. There was a lot of ‘sleep while you can!’ and ‘wait until the baby gets here – can’t do that any more!’. So I have been thrilled that, actually, my day-to-day is something I can enjoy, as opposed to something to ‘get through’.

“The small things also become huge,” Ileana continues. “Seeing things that are undeniably you or your partner. Like, [my son’s] toes form a perfect rectangle, and I’ve never seen that on anyone except [my husband]. There’s something lovely about your baby having something so recognisable.”

Alice describes “unexpected highs” like “calming your baby just by holding him, and him knowing ‘It’s Mum; I’m safe’, and “the validation when he’s beside himself and I manage to get him calm when others can’t”; as well as “the smiles that I get more than anyone else.”

“Looking at [my baby’s] little beautiful face is just the best thing ever,” says Hannah. “He is the best thing ever. Every little milestone is amazing; going for a walk and fresh air with the baby, showing them the world; and just being silly with them. I put on Mambo No. 5 and I put him in his bouncer and I have a little dance in front of him, and he finds it really funny.”

But, crucially: “While many mothers experience great joy in early motherhood, it’s important to acknowledge that not everyone does – and that’s okay,” says Montagu. “There is no single ‘right’ way to feel, and struggling to find joy does not make you a bad mother. If you’re finding early motherhood particularly difficult emotionally, please know that support is available. Tommy’s has excellent resources on postnatal mental health, and Make Birth Better offers support for those who have had a difficult or traumatic birth experience.”

The Final Takeaway

“[A lot of this] sounds so scary, and I really don’t mean it to be – or even think of it that way,” Michelle says. “Our bodies are incredible; I have no negative feelings towards any of [my postpartum symptoms]. It can be overwhelming, but it’s all manageable. [These are] all just things I wish I’d been more aware of, but absolutely don’t want to freak anyone out with.”

If you are a new mother, Montagu summarises: “Your body and your identity are both going through a profound transition – and that journey looks different for everyone. If something isn’t healing as expected, or you’re not feeling okay emotionally, please reach out – to your midwife, health visitor, or GP. Struggling at times is normal; it doesn’t mean you’re failing.

“If you have a support network around you, lean on them,” Montagu concludes. “Partners, family and friends can play a vital role – whether that’s taking the baby so you can sleep, attending appointments with you, or simply being present when things feel overwhelming. You don’t have to navigate this alone.”