Let me tell you something that no birthing class, no book, no over-enthusiastic momfluencer tells you: those first 24 hours after birth? They're WILD. Not in a "dancing-in-the-moonlight" kind of way, more like "what just happened to my body and why do I feel like I’ve been hit by a hormonal tornado" kind of wild.

🌪️ From Bliss to WTF in 0.3 Seconds

I remember waking up from the general anesthesia after my emergency C-section, dazed and confused like someone had hit the pause button on my life and then forgot to press play. I had planned for a natural birth, went through an entire comprehensive course, visualized the music, the affirmations, the candlelight vibe... and ended up on the OR table with rose-tinted amniotic fluid and a baby whose heart rate was too fast.

And when they handed me my daughter? I wish I could say I burst into tears of joy and felt that instant, magical, fireworks-type bond. But instead? I felt... nothing. Just confusion, guilt, and a whole lot of physical pain.

💉 You Might Feel Like You Didn't Even Give Birth

I mean, technically I didn’t push her out. And I wasn’t awake when she was born. So for a while, it felt like someone just handed me a baby and said, "Congratulations, she’s yours now. Good luck!"

The guilt? Unreal. Society sells us this idealized vision of new motherhood where you immediately feel connected and glowing and in love. But what if you’re just... tired? In pain? Swollen in places you didn’t know could swell?

🏥 Pain, Pee Bottles, and Professional Help

The physical recovery from a C-section isn’t cute. There’s the incision pain, the bloating, the inability to sneeze without wincing. And I wasn’t allowed to shower immediately, so my best friend? A peri bottle. That thing SAVED me. Seriously, every new mom should get one in a welcome basket.

I couldn’t even lift my baby without help. Thank God for the nurses. They were the real MVPs — helping me latch, lifting the baby to me at 2am, not judging when I cried because my nipples felt like they were on fire. (Lanolin is liquid gold, btw.)

😴 Emotionally Drained and Running on Fumes

Everyone says "sleep when the baby sleeps," but how does one do that when:

• You’re constantly checking if they’re breathing
• Your body feels like it’s been hit by a truck
• You’re simultaneously trying to breastfeed, hydrate, and not fall apart emotionally
• Oh, and let’s not forget the milk letdown thirst. I could drink an entire lake while breastfeeding. 🥤

Now, here’s a little story from my own experience (brace yourself, it’s a doozy):

The day after I gave birth, they moved me from observation to a regular room. And guess what happened? I was so exhausted from everything—the pregnancy, the labor, the surgery—that I fell into a super deep sleep. But here’s the thing: my baby started crying. And I didn’t hear a thing.

My roommate had to literally shake me awake, and tell me what happened. The guilt hit me like a ton of bricks. I could’ve cried from the sheer weight of it. All I could think was, “What if I fall asleep while breastfeeding? What if I accidentally smother her? I’m such a terrible, incapable mom…”

But let's be real for a second. I was 14 days past my due date. I hadn’t really slept for the last month of my pregnancy because I could barely breathe, let alone sleep. The last few days before giving birth were spent in the hospital where I barely caught a wink. Oh, and did I mention the night before I went into labor, I had contractions all night long? I didn’t sleep a minute. Then came the big C-section surgery, which... yeah, no sleep after that either.

So, yeah, it was totally normal that I was beyond exhausted. But in that moment, I was so unkind to myself. I was telling myself I was a failure. Like, what kind of mom doesn’t hear her baby crying? But I now see that what I really needed was rest. My body was telling me it needed recovery time—and so was my brain—yet I was too busy berating myself to listen.

💔 It’s Okay If It Doesn’t Feel Like Magic Right Away

If you’re reading this and nodding along — maybe even crying a little — know that you’re not broken. You’re not a bad mom. You’re not failing.

You’re healing. You just did something HUGE. You brought a human into this world. Whether you pushed them out, had surgery, screamed through it, or didn’t feel a thing, YOU DID IT.

And that bond everyone talks about? It comes. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes in the middle of a diaper blowout.

Give yourself grace.

Final Thoughts

The first 24 hours after birth are raw, real, and rarely discussed honestly. It’s not all cuddles and Instagram-worthy moments — it’s messy, painful, and beautifully human.

So if your experience wasn’t picture-perfect? Welcome to the club. We have nipple cream and giant water bottles.