Guest writer: Jessie Holland

I’ve always had “big” feelings.Even as a kid, I often thought about my own emotions, as well as protecting the feelings of others (a teaching from the last generation that I won’t be passing down). I have always been fast to tears- happy or sad. You could convince me that a minor disagreement was the end of the world quickly.

As I grew older and understood that I’m not responsible for others’ emotions (thanks, therapy!), my sensitive nature evolved. I often experience tears of wonder during the most mundane, silly moments. I talk a lot about intention vs. impact. Discussing feelings is my love language.

So, when I found out I was expecting in early 2022, I was thrilled…but also nervous. My husband is my biggest supporter and a deeply sweet human. He’s also many stereotypes about straight dudes. An emotional conversation about feelings? No thanks- tell me what you feel so I know for next time; no long discussion is needed. Do you want to vent? I’ll try to fix your problem. There aren’t ways to fix it? Then why worry? Also, like a stereotypical straight guy, he refuses to gather the tea for me from his friends- which I find to be an affront to our marriage- but that is neither here nor there.

The depth of my emotions- and sometimes the extensive need to discuss them- can be tough. We’ve been together for years and know how to support each other when we need it, but this, in particular, is something we work at every day. I worried about how my hormones in pregnancy might amplify my intense emotional needs and how my husband would feel should they be heightened for the duration.

My worry was needless- I had a very easy pregnancy, and my husband did great. He felt the baby kick and took over all long walks with the dog. He practiced diapering on a teddy, installed the car seat, and swaddled inanimate objects. He continued to be incredible during labor, childbirth, and the days following. He held me for my epidural, provided counter pressure, and looked at me with such awe when our little Chloe was born. I was so proud of us, but in the midst of my post-birth high, I was really proud of him. He showed up for me in ways I couldn’t have dreamed.

So, a week and a half postpartum, I think we were both surprised when the hormones started to tank. There are zillions of essays out there telling moms how intense postpartum anxiety and postpartum depression could be, but truly, nothing can prepare you for the reality. I became despondent over absolutely anything and everything. A hint of impatience from my sleep-deprived husband would elicit an hour of hysterics about how I didn’t think he wanted to be around me. If I couldn’t settle our baby but my husband could, I’d be inconsolable, insisting she hated me. One particularly dark day, we drove to see my mom and sat in her parking lot for half an hour while I tried to stop suddenly endless tears because my husband thought I’d packed something that I hadn’t, and now he thought I was incompetent and unfit to be a mother, didn’t he?! (spoiler alert: he did not).

And my husband…oof. He’d heard from me about other women’s postpartum experiences and read the same articles I had geared toward other women. But he was battling something all his own- holding everything together in that first week and letting nothing out. Just pure adrenaline as he watched newborn YouTube videos, controlled our dog, and tended to the baby a lot more frequently than most early dads so that I could rest and pump. So after that first week, when I needed more patience than ever, his resolve was starting to crack. Like most exhausted new dads, he had very little left in the tank. The very real emotions I was experiencing told me something very much not real- that any unhappiness or mention of a forgotten item was a personal attack.

The next six weeks were hard for us. I felt like more patience from him would fix me, but the reality is that that wasn’t true or fair. I Googled article after article where other women had similar experiences or, even more upsetting, had partners who just kept living life exactly as before. So many resources told me I was not alone, which was common. And what did my husband have? I asked him later if he’s ever come across honest resources for new dads on how to support their partners and what to expect. After thinking for a minute, he confirmed that he’d never seen anything besides fluff from other dads. He told me he felt like we were speaking different languages in the thick of it. And he had no one and nothing telling him to pace his exertion, that he’d be pushed to the brink too, that he wasn’t alone. He felt like he’d been shoved into the Matrix without warning.

My experience was profound, dark, and beautiful. So many of us trudge through
these dark months, and the lack of stories for dads FROM dads just adds to OUR burden. It’s wild to me that in 2023, as we talk about how badly new moms need support and how deeply it is lacking, nothing is being said about partner education around the postpartum experience.

How many dads would have felt more prepared and better equipped? How many moms would have
received more support, felt more emotionally safe in their most vulnerable moments?
My husband is an incredible dad and amazing partner, and I’m extremely proud of how far we both come- as individuals and together- since our daughter’s birth. I hope the next time a new dad Googles his wife’s postpartum tears, he sees our story and tells her they are not alone.

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Jessie is a recruiter, career coach, and mom by day. Reality tv fanatic and dog cuddler by night. If you’re interested in passion projects, 90 Day Fiance, and/or wine- we should be friends. You can find and follow her at @shineinovertime (Instagram) @jessiehollandrecruiter (TikTok)