You know what no one tells you about postpartum? It’s basically running a marathon with no training, while someone yells “congrats!” in your face and hands you a crying newborn instead of a medal.
So if you’re still pregnant, this is your chance to cheat the system. Think of this as the pregame before the main event—except your “pregame” includes naps, snacks, and pretending stretching counts as exercise.
When I was pregnant with my first, I thought “self care” meant painting my nails and buying a cute diaper bag.
Spoiler: it did not. What actually helped? Learning how to make my body and brain not collapse during the first six weeks after birth.
So here’s everything I wish someone had told me when I was waddling through Target wondering why maternity jeans are $60.
Pregnancy Self-Care Tips I Wish I Knew
First Things First: Lower the Bar (You’re Not Competing for “Most Put Together Mom”)
Let’s just say it: those “Instagram moms” who somehow look airbrushed while holding a newborn are lying. Or they have a glam squad hiding behind the crib. No one looks like that two weeks postpartum unless they’ve sold their soul—or at least traded it for a live-in nanny and a personal stylist.
So please, lower the bar. You’re not in a competition for “Most Put Together Mom.” There are no gold stars for brushing your hair or wearing jeans before the six-week mark. If your house looks like a baby store exploded and you’ve been in the same oversized T-shirt for three days, congrats—you’re doing it right.
Motherhood isn’t about looking perfect. It’s about keeping tiny humans alive while staying semi-sane. If that means paper plates for a month, dry shampoo as your best friend, and texting “I can’t make it” to every invitation, that’s called balance.
And here’s the kicker: no one actually cares if your house is spotless or if your baby’s outfit matches. They care that you’re okay. That you’re eating, sleeping (sort of), and not spiraling because you saw someone on TikTok making organic purées in a spotless kitchen.
So let go of the pressure. Postpartum life is messy—literally and emotionally. You’re not supposed to have it all together. You’re supposed to survive, laugh when you can, and maybe change your shirt once a day (if you’re feeling ambitious).
Build Up That Energy Bank (You’ll Need It Later)
You might feel like a sloth in yoga pants right now, but staying active—even a little—is one of the best things you can do.
I’m not talking about those superwomen doing squats at 39 weeks. I mean slow walks, stretching, or dancing in your kitchen when the baby kicks like they’re auditioning for a talent show.
Movement keeps your circulation and stamina up, which helps your body heal faster later. Think of it as putting coins in your energy jar before a storm of sleepless nights withdraws them all at once.
Clean Your Home (But Not Like You’re Hosting the Queen)
Here’s the thing: yes, you should clean your house before the baby comes. No, it doesn’t need to sparkle like a model home on HGTV.
You’re not prepping for a royal visit; you’re just trying to make sure you don’t trip over a pile of laundry while holding a newborn and crying because you can’t find your phone (which is, of course, in your hand).
Focus on the useful kind of clean. Wash the bottles, clear the kitchen counters, and maybe vacuum that weird spot that’s been haunting you for months.
But don’t burn yourself out trying to reorganize your entire pantry or color-code the onesies. You will regret it when your back starts yelling at you like an old man in a recliner.
The goal here is to make your life easier, not Instagram-worthy. Set up a few “stations” — one by your bed, one near the couch — stocked with baby essentials, snacks, and things you’ll reach for a hundred times a day.
The fewer trips you have to make up and down the hall, the happier your postpartum self will be.
And if anyone offers to help clean after the baby’s born, don’t say, “Oh, it’s fine.” Hand them a broom and a trash bag and let them live their best productive life. They want to help. Let them.
Because the truth is, postpartum you won’t care if your floors are sticky or your dishwasher’s full. You’ll care that your water bottle is full, your baby’s fed, and you can find your favorite comfy spot to sit for the next feeding session.
So clean now, rest later—and for the love of your sanity, stop stressing over dust. The Queen’s not coming, but your newborn is, and they don’t care if your sink’s shiny.
Train Your Partner Like a Teammate, Not a Babysitter
If you’ve got a partner, now’s the time to make sure they know this is not a group project where you end up doing all the work.
There’s a huge difference between helping and parenting. Helping is “Hey, I’ll pitch in if I have time.” Parenting is “We’re both in the trenches together, no matter what’s exploding.”
Start the training while you’re still pregnant. Have them cook dinner once a week, or fold laundry without being asked. Let them handle the grocery run (yes, even if they come home with the wrong brand of paper towels).
These small reps matter. It’s how you build a partner who doesn’t ask “Where’s the baby’s bottle?” like they’re solving a riddle.
Because here’s the truth: once the baby shows up, you’re both on the clock 24/7. There’s no “your turn, my turn” when everyone’s running on two hours of sleep and one brain cell. If they already know how to soothe, swaddle, and handle the diaper blowout without panicking, you’ll both survive those early weeks with fewer tears—mostly yours.
And please, stop calling it “babysitting” when your partner watches their own child. That’s called parenting.
You don’t babysit your own kid, you raise them. I once had a friend say her husband was “babysitting” so she could shower, and I swear I aged three years on the spot.
Communicate now. Be honest about what you’ll need after birth—someone to take the 3 a.m. shift, wash bottles, or just tell you you’re not crazy when you cry because you dropped a burp cloth. Teamwork starts before the baby does.
That way, when you’re standing in the nursery at 4 a.m., baby screaming, hair in a bun that could double as a bird’s nest, you won’t have to give a crash course on diaper tabs while questioning every decision you’ve ever made. You’ll just tag your teammate in and grab five glorious minutes of peace.
Eat Like You’re About to Open a Milk Bar
Pregnancy is the time to figure out which foods actually make you feel good. Your body’s about to go through a rebuild, and that’s not the moment to discover that Doritos and iced coffee aren’t great recovery fuel.
Try adding protein, fiber, and foods rich in iron and healthy fats now, so your body’s stocked when life turns into “who needs sleep anyway?”
Also—this is the time to learn easy snacks you can eat one-handed while holding a baby. Because you will be eating one-handed. Bonus points if it doesn’t require a plate or utensils.
Get Your House (and Mind) Postpartum-Ready
Here’s the part no one brags about online: postpartum recovery is messy. Literally. Set up a bathroom station now with all the postpartum essentials you’ll need later—peri bottle, pads, witch hazel wipes, and whatever else you’ll pretend not to Google at 3 a.m.
Same goes for your mental space. Prepare to feel weird. You’ll cry because your toast burned, then laugh two minutes later.
That’s normal. Lining up a few friends who can text you real talk instead of “enjoy every moment” is honestly the best prep you can do.
Sleep Now Like It’s Your Job
I know, I know. Everyone and their cousin has already told you to “sleep while you can,” and you’re probably rolling your eyes. But listen—this is not one of those throwaway pieces of advice.
It’s survival. You cannot bank sleep, and once the baby arrives, you’ll understand the unique torture of trying to function after waking up every 45 minutes.
If your body wants to nap, let it. Don’t argue. Don’t decide that now’s a great time to clean the baseboards or reorganize the baby’s onesies by season. You are not auditioning for a homemaking competition. You’re building a human. That’s the whole assignment.
I made the rookie mistake of trying to be productive during every burst of “nesting energy.” By week 37, I was scrubbing behind the fridge while my ankles looked like inflated croissants. Huge mistake. What I should have done was nap, guilt-free, like a queen on her maternity throne.
Sleep in, nap twice a day if you need to, and go to bed early without shame. Because once the baby’s here, sleep turns into a hostage negotiation. You’ll wake up unsure if it’s 2 a.m. or 2 p.m., your partner will be snoring peacefully, and you’ll swear revenge.
So seriously—skip folding the laundry, ignore your phone, and close your eyes. You’ll never look back and say, “I wish I’d cleaned more before the baby came,” but you will wish you’d slept like you meant it.
Your future self, fueled by caffeine and sheer willpower, will be cheering you on from the land of the sleep-deprived.
Start a Postpartum “Reality Kit” (Not Just the Cute Stuff)
Let’s be real for a second. Everyone loves buying the cute baby stuff—tiny socks, pastel swaddles, a crib that costs more than your first car.
But you know what you actually need? A postpartum survival kit that looks less like a Pinterest board and more like something MacGyver would build in a hospital bathroom.
Here’s the deal: the first few weeks after birth are not glamorous. No one told me I’d be walking around in mesh underwear that looked like it came from a crime scene cleanup kit.
And don’t even get me started on the giant pads—they’re so big they should come with a seatbelt. Stock up anyway. You’ll thank yourself later.
Get yourself a peri bottle (aka the squirt bottle that becomes your new best friend), some witch hazel pads, and nipple balm like your life depends on it—because it kinda does.
Toss in snacks you can eat with one hand and a water bottle the size of a fire extinguisher. Hydration is key when you’re sweating, nursing, crying, and maybe all three at once.
Also, don’t sleep on nursing bras and loose pajamas that make you feel semi-human. Nothing tight. Nothing with buttons that take brainpower. You want comfort over everything.
And for the love of sanity, set up a little station near wherever you plan to sit and feed the baby 47 times a day. Think: snacks, burp cloths, wipes, water, your phone charger, maybe even a small mirror so you can remember what your face looks like.
You don’t need to “bounce back.” You just need to survive comfortably. Forget the Instagram hospital bags filled with silk robes and lip gloss. This is about real-life recovery. If it’s not practical, it’s not making the cut.
Don’t Overthink the “Perfect” Birth Plan
Look, having a birth plan is great. It makes you feel organized, calm, and in control—until your baby reads it and says, “Yeah, no thanks.”
Because here’s the truth: babies don’t care about your color-coded binder or the hours you spent deciding between essential oils and epidurals. They show up when and how they want, and usually not according to plan.
I spent weeks writing mine—down to the playlist (John Mayer, in case you’re wondering). My baby arrived 36 hours later while I was begging for the same epidural I said I “probably wouldn’t need.” That’s motherhood in a nutshell: you plan, the baby laughs, and then you adjust.
So yes, prepare. Know your options. But also prepare to throw that plan out the window if things go sideways. The real “plan” is to stay flexible and kind to yourself when it doesn’t go the way you pictured. You are not failing—you’re just rolling with reality.
Because postpartum starts the minute that baby’s out, and the first test of motherhood is learning to pivot without losing your mind. If you can let go of perfection now, you’ll be miles ahead when you’re later trying to keep a tiny human alive on two hours of sleep and stale granola bars.
Remember: the best birth plan is the one that ends with both of you safe and breathing. Everything else is just background noise (and trust me, you’ll barely remember half of it anyway).