Your First 30 Days Postpartum: A Framework That Saved Me

By Yvonne, Founder of thewombflower

📖 Read time: 12 minutes

I still remember day three postpartum with my first baby in 2018, after returning home from the hospital.

I was sitting on my bed at 3 AM, staring at my crying newborn, and I felt... dread. Not the overwhelming love everyone promised. Not the maternal instinct that was supposed to kick in automatically. Just emptiness and terror.

We didn't have a helper back then. It was just me, my husband, and my mum trying to figure it out. We pictured it perfectly in our heads—we'd take turns, we'd manage, we'd be fine.

We didn't account for the sleep deprivation. My husband worked during the day and tried to help at night. But as the mum? It was 24/7. Feeding every 3 hours. Waking up to pump in the middle of the night even when baby finally slept. On-call duty with no breaks, no shifts, no days off.

Did anyone ever ask if I had slept? No. They asked if the baby was sleeping through the night yet.

Nobody told me this is what motherhood looks like.

Everyone said "enjoy every moment" and "these days go so fast" and "you're so blessed." And I was blessed—I knew that logically. But I also felt like I was drowning, and I didn't know how to tell anyone without sounding ungrateful.

How It All Fell Apart

That first postpartum experience broke me in ways I'm still processing.

Postpartum depression crept in quietly. It got worse when I went back to work and faced workplace bullying on top of everything else. So quietly that I didn't recognize it until I was already deep in it.

By the time I realized I needed help, months had passed. Months of suffering I could have prevented if I'd had tools to catch myself earlier. When I got pregnant with my second baby six years later, I told myself: I cannot let this happen again. I was terrified of going back to that dark place. Terrified of losing myself again.

So I did something different.

How I Created My Own Lifeline

During my second pregnancy, I was pursuing my MA in Illustration. For my final year project, I decided to do something for myself: create a postpartum support kit.

The initial thought was simple—so I wouldn't have to go through the same struggles I had six years before. And if it worked for me, maybe it could help other mothers too.

I combined my skills as a UX designer and artist. I researched postpartum depression extensively. I discovered forest bathing and its proven benefits for mental health, including PPD. I took everything I learned and created what you now see: thewombflower postpartum support kit.

Not to prevent all struggle—that's impossible—but to give myself tools to move through it instead of drowning in it.

This framework saved me. And now I want to share it with you.

Why the First 30 Days Matter

Here's what I wish someone had told me before I gave birth:

The first 30 days postpartum are when your mental health foundation is set.

Not your baby's routine. Not your milk supply. Not whether you're "bouncing back." Your mental health.

If you start by ignoring your emotional needs, pushing through, pretending everything is fine—you set yourself up for burnout or worse.

But if you support your mental health from day one, you build resilience for the harder days ahead. Because they will come. And when they do, you'll have tools to face them.

After experiencing both paths—struggling without support the first time, healing with a framework the second time—I can tell you: the difference is life-changing.

The Four Phases That Saved Me

This came from lived experience. My own desperation not to fall apart again. Trial and error to figure out what actually worked when I had zero energy and even less mental capacity.

Let me walk you through each phase, exactly as I experienced it.

Week 1: The Permission Phase

What I was feeling:

Those first seven days were a blur. My body felt foreign—sore, swollen, leaking. I couldn't sleep even when baby slept because my mind wouldn't stop racing.

And the guilt. Oh, the guilt.

I felt guilty for struggling when I had a healthy baby. Guilty for not being instantly maternal. Guilty for saying YES to visitors when I wasn't in any state to entertain people. I only wanted to rest, but they only wanted to see the baby.

What actually helped:

During my second pregnancy, I prepared differently. I gave myself literal permission slips. I wrote on sticky notes:

• "You're allowed to cry"

• "Asking for help is strength, not weakness"

• "You don't have to enjoy every moment"

• "Say NO to visitors"

  
  

I stuck them in my journal where I'd see them every day. Reading them—believing them—made all the difference. I also practiced saying out loud: "I need help." Not "sorry to bother you, but..." Just "I need help with..."

And this time, I knew I needed extra help. So I booked a one-month confinement center stay to make sure I had time to rest and recover properly.

Permission to struggle is the foundation of everything else.

Week 2: The Awareness Phase

What I was feeling:

By week two, the adrenaline wore off. Visitors stopped coming. The congratulations slowed. And suddenly I was alone with my new reality, and it felt... heavy.

I noticed I'd cry every evening. I felt most anxious during night feeds. Some people's visits left me drained; others left me energized.

What actually helped:

In my second pregnancy, I started keeping the simplest journal. Not beautiful prose. Just observations:

• "6 PM is the hardest time. When it gets dark, I feel lonely. Like I'm left alone again with the baby."

• "Sitting by the window with tea helps calm me."

• "Mom's visits feel supportive. Relative's visits feel judgmental."

• "I keep replaying the birth. Still feels so raw and terrifying."

  
  

Writing it down did two things: got it out of my head so it wasn't on constant loop, and showed me patterns I could work with. I learned 6 PM was "witching hour"—common for babies and mothers. So I prepared: water bottle filled, favorite snacks ready, loved ones nearby for support. I couldn't eliminate the hard time, but I could prepare for it. I also learned who I needed boundaries with. Not everyone's presence is helpful postpartum. Some people drain you with unsolicited advice or judgment.

Be brave and say NO if it doesn't make you feel good.

Awareness without judgment is a superpower.

Week 3: The Expression Phase

What I was feeling:

Week three almost broke me. Again. This is when emotions peak.

With my first baby, this was when postpartum depression really took hold. It felt like an emotional roller coaster. I was more sensitive, more raw. I'd rage at my partner over small things. I'd sob uncontrollably while feeding. I had intrusive thoughts that terrified me.

With my second baby, week three was still hard—but I recognized what was happening. Emotions peaking. Hormones crashing. This is the critical window when depression takes hold if feelings go unprocessed.

One day, my husband said something unintentionally hurtful: "I don't understand why such a simple thing and yet you can't get it." During this sensitive week, I took it to heart. I felt like he was calling me stupid, saying he didn't love me anymore. My tears just rolled down nonstop. But because I journaled it and expressed it through doodling, I was able to talk myself through it. I realized these negative thoughts weren't true—it was just hormones. I resolved it on my own in one day. Thank God I didn't go into the rabbit hole for weeks like the first time.

What actually helped:

This is when art saved my life.

I'm an artist, but I'm not talking about creating beautiful paintings. I'm talking about grabbing pencils and scribbling angry red lines across paper. Drawing chaotic circles when I felt out of control. Using colors to express what I couldn't put into words.

One of the day, I drew nothing but jagged black lines for five minutes. It wasn't art. It was release. And afterward, I could breathe easier.

I also journaled raw truth:

• "I resent my husband for sleeping through the baby's cries."

• "I feel rage at my husband for saying such insensitive words."

• "I love my baby and I also miss my old life and I feel guilty about both."

  
  

Writing it made it real. But it also made it manageable. The thoughts lost power once they were on paper instead of swirling in my head. And I cried. So much. In the shower. While feeding. Into my husband's shoulder at 2 AM. I stopped fighting the tears. I let them come. Tears aren't weakness—they're your body releasing stress hormones. They're healing. This phase is uncomfortable. It requires feeling things you want to suppress. But suppression leads to depression.

Expression is protection.

Week 4: The Connection Phase

What I was feeling:

By the final week of month one, I was exhausted. But I also felt something I hadn't felt since giving birth: a glimmer of myself.

Not the old me—that person was gone. But a new version. A mother version. Still figuring things out, but starting to recognize myself again.

What actually helped:

I started small:

I walked. Just 10 minutes in nature. Some days in pajamas. Some days with unwashed hair. But I went outside. The fresh air, natural light, movement—all of it helped more than I expected.

I reached out. I texted my best friend: "I'm struggling today." She didn't try to fix it. She just said: "I see you. You're doing amazing even when it doesn't feel like it." That was enough.

I did something that felt like 'me.' I painted for 15 minutes while baby napped. Not for Instagram. Not for anyone. Just because painting was part of who I was before I became a mother, and I needed to remember that person still existed.

I acknowledged my progress. I looked back at day one—the fear, the overwhelm, the emptiness. And I realized: I survived that. I'm still here. I'm doing it.

Small reconnections matter more than you think.

The Difference Between My Two Postpartum Experiences

With my first baby: I had no framework. I pushed through thinking I was Superwoman. I ignored my feelings. I thought asking for help meant I was weak. By three months postpartum, I was deep in depression and didn't even recognize it.

With my second baby: I used this framework. I still struggled—motherhood is hard no matter what—but I had tools. When week three hit and emotions spiked, I didn't spiral. I journaled. I drew. I cried. I expressed instead of suppressed.

The difference wasn't that I didn't struggle. The difference was that I knew how to move through it.

Why I Created thewombflower

I couldn't find support that addressed maternal mental health in a practical, accessible way. Confinement care focuses on physical recovery. Well-meaning advice like "sleep when baby sleeps" doesn't address the emotional complexity of postpartum.

I needed something in between. Tools I could use at 2 AM when falling apart. Permission to struggle without shame. A framework to catch myself before I fell too far. So I designed it. As an UX designer, I made it simple and functional. As an artist, I made it beautiful; because you deserve beauty even in chaos. As a mother, I tested it on myself first.

What's Inside thewombflower Kit

After my second birth, friends asked: "What did you do differently this time?" So I turned my framework into a physical kit:

For the Permission Phase: Weekly affirmation cards—simple reminders you're allowed to struggle, to feel, to ask for help.

For the Awareness Phase: A guided journal with simple questions: "How am I feeling today?" "What was hardest?" "What helped?" Space to notice without judgment.

For the Expression Phase: Color pencils and art journal pages. Because sometimes words aren't enough. You don't need artistic skill—you just need an outlet.

For the Connection Phase: Custom aromatherapy spray and wellness tea. Small rituals that ground you. A reason to pause, breathe, reconnect with yourself.

It's not everything—postpartum is complex and sometimes requires professional help—but it's something. A starting point. A lifeline when you need it most.

To First-Time Mums: What I Want You to Know

If you're reading this while pregnant, hear me clearly:

What you feel in those first 30 days—all of it—is valid.

The overwhelm. The fear. The joy. The grief for your old life. The love. The numbness. The rage. The guilt. All of it can coexist, and none of it makes you a bad mother.

You might feel instant connection with your baby. You might not feel anything for days or weeks. Both are normal.

You might love breastfeeding. You might hate it. Both are okay.

You might feel like a natural. You might feel completely lost. Both are valid.

Struggling doesn't mean you're failing. It means you're human.

Postpartum depression is common, and it's preventable more often than we think. Not always—sometimes it comes no matter what you do, and that's not your fault. But sometimes, with the right support early on, you can catch yourself before you fall too far.

That's what this framework gave me. Not perfection. Not Instagram-worthy motherhood. Just tools to move through hard moments instead of drowning in them.

When to Seek Professional Help

This framework is not a replacement for professional mental health care.

If you're experiencing any of these, please reach out to your doctor, therapist, or a postpartum support helpline:

• Persistent sadness or hopelessness that doesn't lift

• Intrusive thoughts about harming yourself or your baby

• Inability to bond with your baby or feeling disconnected

• Severe anxiety, panic attacks, or constant worry

• Feeling like motherhood was a mistake

• Thoughts of death or escape

• Rage that feels uncontrollable

These require professional support. There is absolutely no shame in needing it. Postpartum depression and anxiety are medical conditions, not personal failures.

I'm sharing my framework as someone who survived PPD and found tools that helped—but I'm not a mental health professional. I'm just a mother who learned the hard way and wants to help others have an easier path.

You're Not Alone

1 in 5 mothers in Singapore experience postpartum depression or anxiety.

You're not alone. You're not broken. You're not failing.

You're going through one of the most challenging transitions a human can experience. Your body just grew and birthed a person. Your brain is rewiring itself. Your hormones are crashing. Your identity is shifting. Your sleep is non-existent.

Of course it's hard. It would be strange if it wasn't.

But hard doesn't mean you're doing it wrong. Hard just means you need support. Real support. Not toxic positivity or generic advice. Actual tools and permission and understanding.

That's what I'm trying to offer you. Not because I have all the answers—I don't. But because I've been in the darkness, and I found a way through, and I don't want you to feel as alone as I did.

Your First 30 Days Don't Have to Break You

I can't promise postpartum will be easy. I can't promise you won't struggle.

But I can promise that with the right support, it doesn't have to break you the way it almost broke me.

Small actions. Daily support. Four phases. 30 days.

Permission. Awareness. Expression. Connection.

One day at a time. One moment at a time. With tools in your hands and permission in your heart.

You're going to be okay. Even on the days it doesn't feel like it.

You're doing better than you think, mama.

I see you. 🩷

Yvonne Ling

Founder, thewombflower

Artist | Designer | Mother | Postpartum Survivor

Ready to Build Your Postpartum Support System?

The thewombflower Postpartum Support Kit contains everything I used to heal: 30-day guided journal, art therapy materials, aromatherapy, wellness tea, and weekly affirmation cards.

Created by a mother who survived postpartum depression, for mothers who deserve better support.

Because you shouldn't have to figure this out alone.

Shop the Kit | Contact Me

If you're struggling right now:

• NUH Women's Emotional Health Service (WEHS): Offers psychiatric assessment and care for postnatal depression.

  • Phone: 6772 2037 (Mon-Fri, 8am-5pm)

  • Email: wehs@nuhs.edu.sg

    
    

• KK Women's & Children's Hospital (KKH) Women's Mental Wellness Service: Provides information and advice regarding postnatal depression.

  • Email: pnd@kkh.com.sg

  • Appointments/Enquiries: 6293 4044

    
    

You're not alone. Help is available. 🩷