Bringing a baby into your life—whether through birth or fostering—marks a new chapter full of joy and change. While both experiences are beautiful (and challenging AF), there are unique aspects to the postpartum period when it comes to having a biological child versus fostering a newborn. My first postpartum experience was with E, my newborn foster daughter and about 20 months later, I gave birth to my son, Sammy.  Now that Sammy is 10 months old and finally sleeping through the night, I wanted to take some time to reflect on this period for both of my babies.  Let’s dive in.

Physical experiences

Physically, postpartum for both my foster daughter and my biological son were obviously different, but if I had to describe both experiences in one word, it would be fatigue. My first experience was with my newborn foster daughter, and the exhaustion hit me from all angles. Not only was I dealing with the typical sleepless nights, endless feedings, and diaper changes, but I also didn’t have the luxury of maternity leave because I was too new to my job and I didn’t qualify for FMLA yet. By the time I had my biological son, I was more prepared, but that didn’t make the exhaustion any easier to handle. And then, add in the pain!! The physical pain and recovery from a vaginal birth were a whole new level of “fun” — every step, sit, and sneeze felt like my body was holding a grudge. Having a baby at 40 definitely didn’t make the recovery from childbirth any easier—if anything, my body seemed to have more complaints (carpal tunnel, restless leg syndrome, and plantar fasciitis to name a few), and took its sweet time reminding me that I wasn’t exactly in my twenties anymore.

Emotional experiences

While I didn’t experience the typical hormonal shifts that often accompany childbirth, the postpartum period with my newborn foster daughter was still filled with emotional turbulence. The exhaustion of sleepless nights and the challenges of adjusting to motherhood were compounded by the emotional weight of fostering. I was navigating a rollercoaster of uncertainty, as I didn’t know what her future would hold or how long she’d be with us. When my biological son was born, I was fully prepared for those raging hormonal changes I had been warned about—yet, surprisingly, they never really arrived. Instead, I was hit with a pretty intense brain fog. It was honestly alarming—I couldn’t remember simple words, forgot where I put my phone, and on a couple of occasions, had to do a quick panic search to find the baby (thankfully, he was always safe, just sometimes napping somewhere I totally forgot). And then there was the guilt of desperately wanting him to just sleep. It felt selfish to long for a break when I was supposed to be soaking in every moment of newborn bliss, but the truth was, I was exhausted, and sometimes all I could think about was getting a few hours of sleep without someone needing something from me.

My fondest memory from both experiences

One of my fondest memories from the postpartum time with my newborn foster daughter was when a woman from the down the street (that I didn’t personally know), seeing my Facebook post on our neighborhood group asking for help, showed up at my door with diapers, baby clothes, and even a baby swing. When she handed me the items, we stood in my driveway, hugged, and just cried. I realized how much kindness and community can lift you up when you feel like you’re carrying the weight of the world. It was a raw, emotional reminder that even in the hardest times, people are there to offer love and support when you need it most – if you just ask.

My favorite moment from postpartum with my son came when I finally cracked the code on his cries. After some trial and error, I figured out what he needed. Getting him settled brought such relief (to both of us). He was napping peacefully inside, and I took that quiet moment to step outside onto the deck, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face and listening to the birds chirping. It was peaceful AF. The universe was giving me a little gift—time to just breathe and soak in the calm after the chaos, even if only for a few minutes. And it was a reminder that, despite the overwhelming exhaustion, I was slowly finding my rhythm.

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My hope is that this blog may be helpful, or dare I say inspirational to someone out there. Please share your unique postpartum experiences here!