There is something I see very often when I go into a mother’s home a few days after she has had a baby.
She is standing.
Putting something away. Organising the baby’s clothes. Cleaning the kitchen. Taking care of things.
And I think: but she has just had a baby.
Sometimes it has only been three days. Three.
And there she is, standing up and doing things as if her body hasn’t just gone through one of the most intense experiences there is.
And I understand. Because I am a mother too. I know that feeling of having a baby and suddenly there is an absurd amount of things to do. The baby needs to be fed, changed, held, settled. There is a constant need to make sure everything is okay. She needs to eat, go to the bathroom, answer messages, receive people. And in the middle of all this, her body is recovering from birth. She may be recovering from a C-section. She is bleeding, producing milk, sleeping in fragments and going through an enormous hormonal shift.
And yet there are mothers who, three days later, are trying to get the house back in order.
To me, very often, this is a nervous system in survival mode.
During pregnancy, a woman’s body is already preparing for all of this. The placenta produces CRH, a hormone involved in the stress response, and maternal cortisol levels rise significantly throughout pregnancy, sometimes reaching two to three times the levels seen in a non-pregnant woman. It is part of the body’s preparation.
Then labour comes and there is a real cocktail of hormones. Adrenaline, cortisol, oxytocin, endorphins. Almost like a shot of energy to do what needs to be done.
And we do it.
We give birth. We get up. We care for the baby. We do things that, at any other moment, we might not have been able to do.
The problem is when we continue functioning like this after the baby is born.
Because the baby has arrived, but the demand hasn’t ended. In fact, it has just begun.
A newborn needs their mother for practically everything. Often every two hours. There is feeding, breastfeeding, broken nights, crying, holding, physical recovery, pain, hormones changing, a house, a relationship, other children, and a woman trying to figure out who she is now.
It is a lot.
And I think it is very easy for a mother to get lost in this rhythm of everyday life and not even realise that she is in survival mode.
She keeps doing.
She keeps answering.
She keeps organising.
She keeps receiving people.
She keeps taking care of the house.
She keeps saying she is fine.
And then there is what I like to call wired but tired.
Completely exhausted, but switched on.
The body wants to stop, but something inside her is still on alert. She lies down and can’t sleep. The baby finally falls asleep and she is still awake. The smallest sound makes her get up. Her heart races. Her mind won’t stop. She is constantly anticipating the baby’s next need.
And simply saying, “Go to sleep” doesn’t help.
She knows.
She wants to.
But she may not be able to.
Because a nervous system in survival mode doesn’t receive an instruction and simply switch off.
First, it needs to feel safe.
And this is where I think we need to start looking at postpartum differently.
Because very often, we wait for the crash.
The baby starts sleeping better. There are longer stretches of sleep. Solids are introduced. There is more predictability. Something changes and the nervous system finally starts to realise that perhaps the emergency is ending.
And that is when some mothers fall apart.
“Now I feel terrible. Now that the baby is sleeping better.”
It can happen at three months, six months, or much later. There is no exact moment and it does not happen to every woman. But I see this pattern often enough to know that I don’t want to wait for it.
Because for months, that mother has been functioning with her body on alert. And when there is finally enough space to lower her guard, everything that was underneath may begin to surface. The exhaustion. The hunger. The anxiety. The irritability. The tears. The feeling that she simply can’t do it anymore.
It is almost as if the body says: “Okay. Maybe we are safe now. Now we can stop.”
And then comes the crash.
So when I walk into a home and see a mother who has just had a baby and is trying to do everything, I don’t think she needs to learn how to rest.
I think she needs to be cared for.
Because there is a huge difference.
We cannot simply tell a mother in survival mode to go to sleep. First, we need to create the conditions for her body to slowly come out of that state.
It might be a massage. A foot bath. A warm compress. A bath. A warm, nourishing meal that is right for that moment.
A quiet home. Low light. Someone holding the baby. Someone washing the dishes. Someone who doesn’t ask anything else of her.
Someone who is simply there.
And this is what we do at Tree of Life.
It is not about arriving at someone’s home, doing a few things for a few hours and leaving.
It is care over several days.
Seven, eight, ten days.
Because it is through repetition that something starts to happen.
The mother eats. Receives. Rests. Is touched. Is warmed. Is listened to. Has someone there.
And little by little, the body begins to realise that she is not alone. That she doesn’t have to be on alert all the time. That she can receive, close her eyes, breathe.
And when the body begins to feel safe, there is space for something else.
To look at the baby.
To feel the baby.
To notice the baby.
To get to know the baby.
To simply be with the baby.
A nervous system in survival mode has less space for surrender. Not because the mother loves any less. Never because of that. But because she is busy surviving.
A nervous system that feels safe has space for presence, for bonding, for curiosity, for pleasure, for love.
And this is why I don’t want to wait until a mother is completely depleted before caring for her.
I want to start in those first days.
When she is still saying:
“I can do it.”
And being able to answer:
“I know you can. But you don’t have to.”
Because her baby has just been born.
And so has she.
The first weeks are not about proving what a mother can do. They are about recovering, being cared for, and slowly coming out of that constant state of alert.
That is the space we want to protect at Tree of Life.
Nourish. Restore. Receive. 🤍
Note: This article is for informational purposes and does not replace medical or psychological care. If a mother is experiencing intense anxiety, persistent sadness, trauma symptoms, significant insomnia or other symptoms that concern her, she should seek support from a qualified perinatal health professional.
