Rest, Recovery, and Asking For Help

In the soft, early-morning light, the house was cool and quiet. This was surprising given a newborn resided with her parents just down the hall, in the home of my daughter and son-in-law, Faith and Acea.

I got up without disturbing Jim, dressed, and padded down the stairs to the kitchen to prepare two bowls of kanji. A huge slow cooker of this rich, spicy-sweet rice porridge had been prepared just before the baby was born. Each breakfast since then, I warm a bowl, topped it with milk and berries from the garden, and took it to my daughter. This day I took some for Dad too.

It had been ten days since Minerva Moon Imboden Black was joyfully born, in the very room where she now slept with her parents. 

During these sweet days, my husband and I spent most of our time caring for this young family, preparing food, doing laundry, repairing odds and ends around the house, listening and counseling, and celebrating, too.

We even planted a pumpkin patch for Minerva in their garden! 

All this was done so my daughter could fully focus on healing, resting, and learning to nurse, and together the three of them could bond as a family with dad also gaining confidence in caring for his tiny daughter. 

In these ten days, Mama came downstairs just twice, once to walk in the garden for 10 minutes and once for a special dinner. But otherwise, she’d been in her bedroom with the baby. We brought them dinner on trays, sometimes joining them for a bit, other times letting them be.

Readers in other parts of the world may not find this unusual, but readers in the United States may. It is common in my country for postpartum care to be ridiculously brief and for couples to go home to figure it out alone. 

The emphasis and need is to get up, get dressed, resume work, and get back to normal as soon as possible. The pressure to produce is emotional and mental as well as practical. For many young families, two incomes are required to survive, so pausing to rest and heal humanely is not an option. 

And even without financial pressures, our society does not embrace slowing down and being in the moment. We are in a hurry to get back to “normal”, to show ourselves and others we are doing great. But this was different.

This morning, I carried the bowls of kanji on a wooden tray up the stairs and down the hall, knocking softly on the door. 

“Come in!”

They were awake. Faith was quietly nursing the baby in bed with Acea beside her. 

I came in, greeting them softly with a smile. I passed Acea a bowl and spoon and then sat on the edge of the bed by Faith and the baby. 

As she nursed, I spoon-fed her the Kanji. 

Between bites, we talked about how the baby slept and fed, how Faith was feeling, and how nursing was going. She talked about what she noticed, exclaimed over what she learned, delighted in her sweet daughter, and explored options for little challenges. Acea too shared his observations, awe, and joys. 

Between us, we nourished mama, daddy, and baby, body and soul, in a bubble of love and gentle care focused on what matters most: health, well-being, and connection. 

We didn’t speak of plans for the day. What was happening there was THE plan for the day. 

I tidied up the room a bit, took the laundry and dishes downstairs, and left them to continue their resting and healing in the spaciousness.

Acea and Faith Imboden Black, with their daugher Minerva

A few days later, Jim and I went on a short overnight trip to see friends a couple of hours away. This gave Faith and Acea a chance to be alone and stretch their parenting wings. 

We returned to find a contented family. They had a few questions which we talked through, but mostly they were confident, peaceful, growing stronger, and finding their way together. 

We celebrated with them one more time that night with a special meal, a toast, and heartfelt sharing about what this time had meant to each of us. We thanked them for allowing us to be with them and support them in this special way. We cleaned the kitchen one more time the next morning. And then I did the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long time: I said goodbye for now, waving as they stood on their front steps, and we drove home, 14 hours away. 

Why Am I Sharing This?

What does this have to do with making work more loving and human? 

This experience reminded me, yet again, how important it is to care for each other, to go gently, and to look out for each other’s well-being.

The need for rest, recovery, and learning is not limited to birthing mamas and their partners. We all have these kinds of needs and often at work.

We have new team members who want to do well. But they may be a little scared and need to learn how to do their new job. Rather than a “sink or swim” approach, we can offer kind support, listening, training, and encouragement to build confidence.

A team member who’s been working long hours to complete an intense project may need a little downtime for some guilt-free rest and recovery.

Another person struggling to hold it together at work while facing an intense personal challenge may need a listening ear.

We can improve the well-being of all if we structure both our workplace practices and our social norms to make such support during illness, death, change, challenge, or birth both possible and expected. 

I want to also share that while the purpose of this pause was to benefit my daughter and her family, in truth, this pause was just what I needed too! By stepping back and stopping my usual pace and routine, I had the chance to more deeply sense what I was feeling and listen to that inner voice giving me a new perspective on my life, purpose, and work. 

In the weeks ahead, the fruit of all that I “birthed” during this time of pause will become evident! 

We all need to ask for help sometimes.

We all need support to pause, rest, and recover at times. We can make that happen for each other. And, this support Faith and Acea received from us happened because Faith asked me for this help. As a midwife, she knew what she would need, and she didn’t hesitate to ask. 

We face many tough situations in life; we are not meant to shoulder most things alone. We all, at times, need to pause, ask for help, rest, heal, and reconnect to ourselves and each other, to learn, to reflect, to grieve, to celebrate. 

The shape of this is not predictable. But we can be responsive to each other if we ask for what we need. 

How do you feel about asking for help?

In our competitive economy and fear-forward culture, asking for help may seem like the worst idea in the world. After all, if I ask for help, then you will know I can’t do it on my own. I may lose standing or opportunities. If I reveal my weakness, you may use it against me. 

But really, in most teams, I find people want to help each other. 

Asking for help is how we learn, receive mentoring, bond, and grow collectively stronger.

None of us has all the answers. None of us can shoulder all the burden, but we aren’t meant to. We are meant to share the load. And in doing this, we build stronger social bonds and more possibilities for what we can do together.