Let’s start with expectation #1: Sitting down to write this post.
Expectation: I’ll do it.
Reality: We’re six weeks into life with Nolen, and this is my first attempt.
And perhaps ironically, my baby, who’s been napping for a glorious 2 hours already, has just started rustling around. Guess we will see how far I get today. 😜
(Update: Nolen is now nearly 9 weeks old, and I’ve just finished writing. 🤷♀️)
But, yes. Nolen joined our family on 8 September 2025, and for my own posterity, I wanted to write about my experience with pregnancy and the first few weeks postpartum because my reality was nothing like my expectations. Let me explain.
I’ve always been on the fence about having kids. Honestly, if Shane was someone who didn’t want them, I would have been ok. I love the life we’ve built, and it was hard to imagine changing that. But, after Ecuador, we knew it was time to have “the talk,” given we were about as stable as we were going to be location and job wise and that we were approaching 40.
My one stipulation? Oktoberfest. I wanted one proper, all-in, no-responsibilities Oktoberfest while we lived in Munich before our lives changed. So, we Oktoberfested, and then decided to see where life takes us. Which brings me to expectation #2.
Expectation: This could take a while.
Reality: Two months.
And I feel very fortunate. I really expected it to take a while since I had been on birth control since I was 16, and we were starting this adventure at 39. There were potentially a lot of factors working against us. I also didn’t expect how TTC (trying to conceive, as “they” say) lived in the back of my mind rent-free. Once we made the decision, I felt the timeline pressure—are we in or out of “the window” each month? When can I take a test? Shane didn’t experience this; I guess that’s the benefit of not being the primary responsible party in this situation. The whole experience gave me a much better appreciation for those couples who go through these ups and downs for longer periods.
And, given that we were purposefully trying to have a baby, I certainly didn’t expect us both to be shocked when it actually worked. 😆
Expectation: I’ll hate being pregnant.
Reality: It’s not so bad.
I attribute this solely to the fact that I was able to be myself throughout my pregnancy. I was fortunate enough to experience no morning sickness, no fatigue, no food aversions, and no major pains. I kept working out until I was 40 weeks pregnant (although I did have to give up running around 20 weeks). I really didn’t need to “give up” much in terms of foods besides the occasional alcoholic drink (which I really didn’t miss until beer garden season) and sprouts on my salad. Oh, and sprudelwasser (sparkling water)—that one really hurt. However, since I needed more calories, I incorporated daily peanut butter snacks (my favorite food) and weekly schneckes (the German cinnamon roll; it means “snail,” which I love). So, I really couldn’t complain about food.
Moreover, I expected to feel hormonal swings, but I felt mentally myself. I expected to worry about gaining weight, but I found it to be fun looking at the data week to week and matching it with baby bump progress pictures. I expected to be weirded out by the fact that a human was growing inside of me, but instead I was amazed by what was happening. I guess you see the pattern?
Now, what I did not expect was having to pee all the time in the first trimester (thought that was a third-trimester thing!), how early on and how often I could feel baby movements (I was barely showing), or feeling simultaneously stretched to the brim, like I ate way too much food, yet simultaneously hungry.
And don’t get me wrong. There were some parts I didn’t enjoy. Like the sporadic pelvic pain (which is why I stopped running), the inability to use my abs to get on and off the couch or in bed, and how uncomfortable sleeping was by the end (I swear, I get more quality sleep with a newborn than I did those last few weeks of pregnancy). And these not-so-fun parts bring me to my next expectation.
Expectation: To have moments of panic!
Reality: It didn’t happen.
I kept waiting for that “wtf have we done” moment during pregnancy, but it just never came. Shane and I are type A, need a routine, plan for everything kinda people. But for some reason, when it came to pregnancy and the upcoming arrival of the baby, we were both able to just let that go and accept that we had no idea what to expect. “It is what it is” was our running motto. I think that’s why those panic moments never happened. We could plan for the fact that we would have no plan! 🤦♀️😆
In my opinion, this is also partly attributed to the fact that we’ve now moved to three countries—the Netherlands, Germany, and Ecuador—without ever having visited or vetted our new home. Each time we arrived with no expectations. Ok, we had some expectations in the Netherlands, our first move outside of the US, but you learn how to manage them and integrate into this new way of life. I think pregnancy and baby were just another “move”; we arrived with no expectations and were willing to simply try and integrate the best we could.
I really only had one moment of panic: Going into labor on a 30 °C (~86 °F) day in a hospital with no air conditioning (you read that correctly; there’s no AC in German hospitals), which was a real possibility at the end of the summer. 😆
Expectation: I have no clue what labor and delivery will be like.
Reality: I had no clue what labor and delivery would be like.
Hey, at least I got one thing right! 🤣
I had really hoped that Nolen would make his arrival on the due date (28 August), but logically I knew this was very unlikely. My mom arrived in Munich a week before the due date, and then my dad, sister, and in-laws were arriving a week to ten days after the due date. I expected (ok, hoped, really) that Nolen would arrive on time, so I would feel more up to doing touristy things with everyone. I was very wrong. I mean, I still wanted to do touristy things, but Nolen didn’t make his appearance until 11 days past my due date.
I can’t speak for all of Germany, but at the hospitals in Munich, induction is not considered until 10 days after the due date. The reason being that it’s not unreasonable to think the due date could have been miscalculated by a week or so, but there are risks the longer you wait. So, 10 days past the due date is what they consider the sweet spot for induction.
What I did not expect was the “is today the day?!” roller coaster of emotions that started around 37 weeks, which is considered full term here. I felt like every day I woke up thinking, “ok, maybe today!” and, subsequently, I found myself feeling very impatient and overanalyzing everything my body was doing. But 37 + 0 days was not the day, nor was 40 + 0 or 40 + 2, 4, 6, 8, or 9, which are all the days we went to the hospital for a check. On the plus side, by the time 40 + 10 days came around (i.e., the day they would induce), we were both so ready to get things going that we weren’t nervous. It was just excitement to finally start this next chapter!
Another positive to induction is that I was able to walk to the hospital, which is something I had hoped to be able to do. The hospital where Nolen was born is only a ~15-minute walk through the park from our house. So, on the morning of the induction, we had a nice final walk as a family of two, and three days later, Shane walked Nolen home (I went in a taxi).
Regarding the labor and delivery, as I said, I was induced at 41 + 3 days. They started the induction around 8:30 am, but things didn’t start picking up until about 12 hours later, culminating in a contraction storm with relatively short but very intense contractions with essentially no break in between. So, they gave me a medication to slow the pace of the contractions, and then I was able to have an epidural. I reached 10 cm dilated ~1.5 hours after the epidural, but the contractions weren’t strong enough to push, so they administered oxytocin, which encouraged the contractions enough that I could try “practice” pushes. However, the midwife and eventually the doctors found that his head was slightly stuck behind my pelvis, so pushing wasn’t going to work. They recommended a c-section, which I agreed to, and within (no joke) ~15 minutes after making that decision, they started the procedure.
I thought I might be a bit disappointed we had to switch at the last minute, but honestly, I wasn’t. It ended with a healthy baby who was apparently more stuck than they realized from the pelvic exam. So, it was the right choice! And the doctors and midwives at our hospital were excellent and very calming.
Now, on to postpartum! Let’s start with the obvious. Sleep.
Expectation: I’ll be miserably tired.
Reality: It wasn’t so bad.
If I’m being honest, I’ve slept better during this newborn phase than I did during the last 6-ish weeks of pregnancy. My sleep duration may have decreased, but the sleep quality drastically increased. By the end, I was just so uncomfortable sleeping. I’ll take short, quality sleep over long, uncomfortable sleep any day.
Of course, during those first few weeks, there were days of being incredibly tired, especially in the hospital, where nurses and doctors are always coming in and out. And, being new parents of a boy, we hadn’t quite figured out how to aim the anatomy in such a way to avoid leaky diapers (“wiener down, ruffles out!” became my diaper changing chant). So, there was one night in the hospital when he peed through all the blankets we had for him. This was one of the more exhausting nights for Shane, since I couldn’t do anything but sit in bed after the c-section. Shane had all the other responsibilities—diaper change, bring the baby to me to feed, settle him for sleep, and repeat.
However, once we were home, we settled into a nice routine. And, to our surprise, we had to wake him up every 3 hours during the night for a feed. After about 2 weeks, we started with a midnight bottle, so Shane could bottle feed and give me a break. Since he was gaining weight, we decided to stop waking him up overnight at 4 weeks, and we were completely shocked when he actually slept 4–5 hours overnight. So, perhaps he is our baby after all; sleep is a high priority for him, too. 🤪
Expectation: Breastfeeding won’t work, and it’s super weird.
Reality: It worked, and it’s not weird!
For years, a running dialogue between my sister and me versus my mom has been how we could not comprehend how breastfeeding could be anything other than weird. I mean, it’s a tiny human sucking on your boob. It’s weird.
“It’s not weird, girls! It’s NATURAL!” — said Mom.
Spoiler alert. Mom was right.
Nonetheless, going into this experience, I had mentally prepared for breastfeeding not to work or to not have sufficient supply, given that so many women have some sort of trouble feeding (or, at least that’s what you hear). I even bought formula and bottles before he was born just to take the pressure off. I had decided that I’ll give it an honest try, but if it doesn’t work, I’m not going to stress over it; there is nothing wrong with formula feeding.
Surprisingly, I didn’t have to go that route. He latched immediately in the hospital without any issues. He was even one of those babies that came out of the womb fish-mouthing, looking for food (takes after me, I guess). After that happened, I don’t think I had a second thought regarding concerns for breastfeeding. I just kind of knew it was going to work, and I was going to enjoy it. And, at least two months in, the overall experience doesn’t feel burdensome, which I absolutely expected to feel given that I am his sole source of food.
Now, some things I didn’t expect.
Cluster feeding: We heard about it. I knew it was a possibility, but I don’t think I comprehended that ALL babies cluster feed, particularly in the evening. So, in those early weeks when my body was still adjusting, feeding him every hour in the evening felt like “daammnnn baby!” But, with everything, once you know what to expect, you adapt, and the overwhelming feeling dissipated.
So. Much. Milk!: Yes, I realize this is a great thing and a fortunate problem to have, but I still didn’t expect it. I certainly didn’t expect to be dripping boobie milk all over the floor, leaking through my bra, or drowning little Nolen. Luckily, my Sis was around to show me how to use the breast pump.
Relatedly, boobie size 😳: Another one of those things you hear about, but can’t comprehend until it happens. In fact, the day I went home from the hospital, the midwife told me to go home, put on my dirndl (the traditional Bavarian dress known for featuring the tatas), and take some pictures. 😆 How your boobs change with milk production is wild, and engorgement is a feeling you can’t understand until it happens. I’ve always proudly been a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Club, so I certainly never expected to need to wear a bra all the time. It will be interesting to see how things change when I eventually stop breastfeeding.
Expectation: I don’t need a postpartum midwife.
Reality: It was nice to have her.
In Germany, 12 at-home visits by midwives are covered by insurance during the first three months. Honestly, we weren’t really sure why we needed this, but since it was covered by insurance, and our doctor said, “Find a midwife,” we found a midwife, and it was a great resource to have in those early days.
Her first visit was the day after we came home from the hospital. She checked both me (my c-section wound and overall healing) and Nolen (which is how we knew he was gaining weight so well). She also checked in with me about breastfeeding, answered any lingering questions (yes, hiccups all the time is normal), and explained how in the hell you give a vitamin D TABLET to a baby (yes, here in Germany it’s provided in tablet form 🤦♀️). She was definitely a valuable resource in those first few weeks.
Relatedly.
Expectation: We can do it ourselves
Reality: We can do it ourselves, but it was nice not to have to.
For the first time since we’ve lived abroad, both families visited at the same time for Nolen’s birth. My mom arrived a week before the due date (like I said, we were hoping for an on-time baby!). Dad, Sis, and Cleo arrived a week after the due date (…still no baby), and Shane’s parents, brother, and oldest niece arrived about 2 weeks after the due date, when Nolen was 2 days old. In a way, Nolen’s late arrival was nice because everyone was able to meet brand-new Nolen and visit us in the hospital.
Like I mentioned, Shane and I fully expected to go on this new-baby adventure on our own. We’ve lived away from our family for so long now that our default attitude is one of full independence. So, when everyone said they were coming to Munich for us and the baby, we didn’t quite comprehend that they were coming to Munich for us and the baby! In my mind, our families are coming to visit, so my trip planning/touristy brain started turning, and I literally kept forgetting they were coming because of a baby—OUR baby—they didn’t care about the touristy stuff.
We had no idea how much we needed their love and support, of course, all the time, but especially in those early few weeks at home. They brought us supplies in the hospital, cooked and cleaned, bought us baby clothes and fuzzy blankets (apparently we were severely lacking), helped with Nolen’s first bath, and snuggled the baby. Perhaps most importantly, everyone provided so much reassurance that we were on the right track; we were doing great!
The time spent with everyone here was invaluable, and we can’t thank them enough for prioritizing us.
Expectation: I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom.
Reality: I’m enjoying my time at home with Nolen.
The required maternity leave period (yes, required by law!) ends 8 weeks after birth, so I could go back to work now if I wanted to, and I do think I will want to eventually, but not yet. Yes, there have been days when Nolen won’t sleep, and he’s the grumpiest of all grumps, in which case he gets promptly handed off to Shane when he walks through the door. (I didn’t expect cooking dinner or cleaning the kitchen to feel like a break, but on those days it does!) But honestly, we’ve had a limited number of those kinds of days. He feels like an easy-going baby, and I actually like hanging out with him! 😆 Especially now that he’s leaving the “meatloaf” phase (as my cousin called it) and is becoming more interactive.
We’ve also started going to a mom/baby class once a week with other moms and babies of the same age (2 to 12 weeks), which I was skeptical of at first (on account of me being a judgy non-parent), but it has been really nice. The class is in English, so it attracts internationals in Munich, giving us another shared experience outside of the babies. It’s been a nice way to meet other new moms, talk through the highs and lows of this new life, and get tips on various newborn topics. Plus, it’s given me practice navigating the city just the two of us. This kid has already been on buses, trains, and subways! We’ve already signed up for the next class with the same group of moms and babies. ☺️
Now, I’ve transitioned from maternity leave to parental leave, which Shane and I can take for up to two years combined with supplemented income from the government. I feel very fortunate to live in a country with a system that allows me (and Shane) to have this time with Nolen.
As for the rest of life with a baby, I (we) really had no idea what to expect. Remember that show on MTV about celebrity lives, and the tagline was “You think you know, but you have no idea.” I think that perfectly sums it up.
I didn’t expect to be constantly in motion (constantly swaying!), how tight your back and shoulders get from being hunched over a baby (feeding him, just looking at him, rocking him to sleep), or to always stand on public transportation (that darn stroller!). I didn’t expect how absolutely exhausting it is when he won’t sleep (and how creative you get with “sssshhhh-ing”), but how rejuvenated I feel after HE takes an hour nap. Conversely, I didn’t expect to worry when he sleeps long stretches at night (is he still breathing?!). I never expected to be so invested in someone else’s bowel movements or just how many diapers a baby uses in a day, nor did I expect him to have a sixth sense for when I’m about to eat; of course, he needs something in that exact moment.
However, the real doozy is that I didn’t expect to forget so much so fast. Already, two months postpartum, I realize I’m forgetting the little things. The c-section pain and sleeping in the recliner for a week. The overwhelming feeling of our new life in those first quiet moments at home after the hospital. The rush to bed after he’s asleep to try and get a few hours ourselves. The absolute shock the first time I got peed on (I was soaked 😆) or how his neck smells like cheese (from milk in his neck rolls 🤢). How little he felt in our arms (they indeed do grow so fast!) and those milk drunk sleeps (they are few and far between already).
Somehow, all these things become normal, or you realize they’ve quietly outgrown it. “Everything is a phase,” they say. Several people have commented on how kids have a way of putting a hard stamp on time, making it blatantly obvious how much has passed. We’re only two months in, and it’s so true.
Re-reading this post, it feels a bit like I’ve been romanticizing this journey, but overall, my pregnancy and postpartum experiences have been a net positive. In my opinion, Nolen has been an easy-going baby, which has absolutely shaped my attitude. I’ve also been fortunate to have my Sister (with Cleo), who’s really helped me mentally prepare to become a parent and continues to be a great role model.
Our next big challenge? Travel with a newborn, which we will be doing soon for Shane’s birthday. I’ll report back. 😜
Tschüss,









































































































































