Celebrating the Baby, Remembering the Mother
- annekonkle6
- 2 days ago
- 7 min read
Text and photo By: Aleksandra Erak, MSc

Editor’s note: This guest post was written by Aleksandra Erak, MSc, a recent graduate of the BESST Lab. Aleksandra reflects on how our cultural celebrations of new babies can sometimes overlook the profound transition experienced by mothers themselves.
Disclaimer: Throughout this post, the term mother is used to refer to individuals who have experienced pregnancy and childbirth. This language reflects common terminology in both everyday conversation and much of the research literature on perinatal health. However, it is important to recognize that not all individuals who give birth identify as “mothers” or “women.” This post aims to acknowledge and support individuals of all genders and identities who are navigating pregnancy, childbirth, and the postpartum period.
In the past five years, I have found myself increasingly surrounded by loved ones who are moving through major life transitions. Some are getting mortgages, others are relocating or beginning new relationships, and some are entering a new stage of life altogether: parenthood. As more people around me navigate pregnancy, childbirth, and raising a child, I have become more aware of the ways in which our North American communities celebrate and support these moments.
Baby showers have become one of the most visible expressions of that support. These gatherings are joyful occasions that bring together friends and family to celebrate the anticipated arrival of a new life. Gifts are chosen thoughtfully (or through the help of a registry) and often focus on preparing parents for the practical realities of caring for a newborn. Clothing, bottles, blankets, diapers, and nursery items fill the tables at the showers, each item reflecting care and excitement for the baby who will soon arrive. Yet, while attending these celebrations, I have increasingly found myself reflecting on something that often receives far less attention: the mothers themselves.
Much of the focus during the perinatal period is directed toward the baby. We celebrate the child who is about to enter the world and ensure that the family is practically equipped with the items needed to care for them. What is discussed, and acted on, far less often is the transition that the mother herself is about to experience. Pregnancy and childbirth represent profound physical, emotional, and psychological changes. While the arrival of a new baby understandably becomes the center of attention, the person who has carried and delivered that child is also undergoing one of the most significant transitions of her life. However, the magnitude of that transition is rarely reflected in the amount of attention and care directed toward her.
As discussed in earlier posts on this blog by Dr. Konkle, pregnancy and the postpartum period involve profound biological, psychological, and social changes that reshape daily life and identity for new mothers (Konkle, 2025a). The months following birth are often described as the “fourth trimester,” a time characterized by physical recovery, sleep disruption, emotional adjustment, and the gradual restructuring of daily routines as parents learn to care for a newborn (Konkle, 2025b). Research in perinatal mental health has consistently highlighted that these transitions can be both meaningful and challenging, particularly when mothers feel unsupported or isolated during the postpartum period (O’Hara & McCabe, 2013; Slomian et al., 2019). Despite the magnitude of this transition, many of the cultural rituals that surround pregnancy and birth focus primarily on preparing for the baby rather than preparing to support the mother.
Baby showers are filled with thoughtful gifts intended to help families care for their newborn. While these gifts are both practical and appreciated, relatively little attention is directed toward the person who will soon be recovering from childbirth while simultaneously adapting to the demands of caring for an infant and navigating the emergence of a new identity. This contrast becomes particularly apparent when viewed alongside traditions in other cultures around the world that have long recognized the postpartum period as a time when mothers themselves require significant care and support.
In many Latin American cultures, the postpartum period known as la cuarentena encourages approximately forty days of rest and healing for the mother (Wolfe-Sherrie et al., 2022). During this time, family members often assist with cooking, household tasks, and caregiving so that the mother can focus on recovery and bonding with her baby (Dennis et al., 2007). Similarly, Chinese postpartum traditions include the practice of zuoyuezi, often translated as “sitting the month,” during which mothers are encouraged to rest, consume nourishing foods, and receive support from family members or trained caregivers as they recover from childbirth (Liu et al., 2015). Across many South Asian cultures, postpartum care also involves extended family members assisting with meals, household responsibilities, and infant care in recognition that recovery after childbirth requires time, rest, and communal support. Although these practices differ across cultures, they share an important belief: birth is not viewed solely as the arrival of a child, but also as a period of recovery and transition for the person who has given birth. In these cultures, the wellbeing of the mother is understood to be central to the wellbeing of the child and the family as a whole.
Reflecting on these traditions, as well as on the realities of postpartum life described in both research and previous posts on this blog, has prompted me to think more carefully about how we support new mothers within our own communities. Interestingly, this reflection came during a time when many friends and loved ones around me were entering parenthood, while I was immersed in my master’s research on pregnancy and the postpartum period. In many ways, it felt as though life and research were unfolding side by side, each deepening my understanding of the other.
One small practice I have begun with loved ones who are expecting is the creation of postpartum kits. Alongside gifts intended for the baby, I assemble small packages designed specifically for the mother. These kits may include their favourite snacks that were difficult to enjoy during pregnancy, small self-care items, and other thoughtful comforts intended to support the early weeks (or months) of recovery. The kits themselves are simple, but they are meant to communicate something important. They acknowledge the excitement and anticipation for the upcoming arrival while also reminding the mother that she is seen, valued, and deserving of care during this profound transition in her own life. When I have given these kits to friends, the reactions have often been ones of surprise and deep appreciation. Many have shared how unexpected it felt to receive something meant specifically for them during a time when most gifts and attention are understandably directed toward the baby. In those moments, the gesture becomes less about the items themselves and more about the message they carry: that while the baby will receive much of the attention and care, the mother deserves to be recognized, supported, and cared for just as deeply.
Another small tradition I have begun is marking approximately six months postpartum with a simple outing with the mother without her partner (if she has one) and her child. By that point, the initial excitement surrounding the birth has often faded, and many mothers may find themselves navigating the ongoing adjustments of early parenthood with less external recognition. I’ve found that meeting for coffee, dinner, or another small activity they might enjoy creates space for the mother to reconnect with herself outside the immediate demands of parenthood. The outing does not have to be elaborate, nor does it need to take the mother far away from her child, but it can provide even a short period of time where she is able to focus on herself. The goal is not to create pressure or expectations, but simply to offer time and support. What matters most in these moments is the message they convey. Becoming a mother does not erase the individual who existed before that transition. The identities that women carry as friends, professionals, partners, daughters, and creative thinkers continue to exist alongside motherhood, even as they evolve.
I believe that celebrating pregnancy and welcoming a new baby will always be reflected in meaningful cultural traditions. However, these traditions may also present an opportunity to expand how we think about supporting new families, especially the mother. Alongside preparing for the baby, we might also consider how we can acknowledge the recovery, identity shifts, and emotional adjustments that accompany the transition into motherhood. While preparing postpartum kits or planning small outings with friends is one way I have tried to do this, support can take many forms. It might look like organizing a rotating meal schedule for the weeks after birth, offering to help with household tasks so a new mother can rest, or checking in months later when much of the initial excitement surrounding the birth has faded but the demands of early parenthood remain.
Supporting mothers through this transition does not always require large systemic changes. Sometimes it begins with small shifts in our culture of caring for new mothers. Celebrating the mother herself before childbirth, offering opportunities for rest or self-care, bringing meals in the weeks after birth, or checking in months later can all help sustain mothers through this transition. It may also mean asking about the baby while still making space for conversations that extend beyond parenthood, reminding mothers that the many parts of who they are still matter.
Motherhood asks women to carry extraordinary physical, emotional, and social responsibilities. Those who bring life into the world deserve a culture that sees them, supports them, and cares for them just as deeply as they care for everyone else.
Aleksandra Erak, MSc, completed her master’s research in the BESST Lab examining pregnancy and postpartum experiences. Her interests focus on women’s health research, perinatal mental health, reproductive health, and health equity.
References
Dennis, C. L., Fung, K., Grigoriadis, S., Robinson, G. E., Romans, S., & Ross, L. (2007). Traditional postpartum practices and rituals: A qualitative systematic review. Women and Birth, 20(3), 131–137. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.wombi.2007.06.002
Konkle, A. T. M. (2025a). Postpartum mental health. BESST Lab Blog.https://www.besstlab.com/post/postpartum-mental-health
Konkle, A. T. M. (2025b). Postpartum mental health: Part 5. BESST Lab Blog.https://www.besstlab.com/post/postpartum-mental-health-p5
Liu, Y. Q., Petrini, M., & Maloni, J. A. (2015). “Doing the month”: Postpartum practices in Chinese women. Nursing & Health Sciences, 17(1), 5–14. https://doi.org/10.1111/nhs.12146
O’Hara, M. W., & McCabe, J. E. (2013). Postpartum depression: Current status and future directions. Annual Review of Clinical Psychology, 9, 379–407. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-clinpsy-050212-185612
Slomian, J., Honvo, G., Emonts, P., Reginster, J. Y., & Bruyère, O. (2019). Consequences of maternal postpartum depression: A systematic review of maternal and infant outcomes. Women’s Health, 15, 1745506519844044. https://doi.org/10.1177/1745506519844044
Wolfe-Sherrie, E. J., Perroni-Marañón, A. G., Núñez-de la Mora, A., & Piperata, B. A. (2022). “Hey child, why were you born when the world is almost over?”: An analysis of first-time mothers’ postpartum experiences during the early stages of the COVID-19 pandemic in Coatepec, Veracruz, Mexico. Maternal and Child Health Journal, 26(8), 1732–1740. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10995-022-03405-6



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