“Look at her wearing sweatpants under that hospital gown,” someone chuckled lightly.
“I don’t think you’re doing that diaper change right; he seems upset,” another remarked, nudging me away from the baby’s crib.
“Are you drifting off again?”
“What does your incision look like?”
After the birth of my first child, these were the comments I encountered from well-meaning family members. I knew they meant no harm, but I had pushed aside my desire for privacy to accommodate those eager to visit.
With a weary smile, I fought to stay awake, but fatigue enveloped me. Recovering from a C-section, I was on strong pain medication, and the emotional toll of my baby being born two weeks early due to critically low oxygen levels weighed heavily on me. I craved rest, nourishment, and the opportunity to bond with my newborn, whom I hadn’t even held until four long hours after my surgery.
I missed witnessing my own child’s birth because I had been placed under general anesthesia. To add to my distress, I had to endure the procedure alone while my husband was nearly 800 miles away, hurriedly arranging a flight home from his Navy base.
How did I feel about uninvited guests when I had clearly expressed my desire for a private experience? I was proud of my maturity in not causing a scene, yet frustrated that following major surgery, I felt compelled to suppress my discomfort and pretend that their presence was welcome.
Yes, I may not look fashionable right now, but rushing to the hospital after realizing I was bleeding didn’t leave much room for picking out cute outfits—especially when none existed for my 38-week pregnant self. And while I may take longer than expected to change a diaper, I’m a first-time mom trying to figure things out without asking for help. Yes, I was dozing off again due to medication, and no, I’m not showing you my surgical scar—I’m still too nervous to even look at it myself.
I was unprepared for the aftermath of my delivery, including the ongoing bleeding, which made me feel uncomfortable and vulnerable while lying in bed without a bra. It was a challenge to engage in normal conversation with uninvited guests while trying to adjust to my new reality. I would have preferred privacy with my baby.
Instead of nurturing that special bond, I found myself sharing my time with relatives and a parade of medical staff who came in to check on us. I appreciated their love and the thoughtful gestures like takeout food and gifts, but what I truly needed was time to recover and connect with my newborn after his NICU stay and my own healing process.
When my husband finally arrived, I longed for uninterrupted family time—which only seemed feasible in the early hours when visitors had left and nurses had completed their rounds. Sadly, this was also the same time we needed to catch up on sleep, making it an emotionally draining situation.
Now, as we prepare for the arrival of our second child, my husband and I have had countless discussions about visitors. I’ve made it clear that I prefer no visitors this time. My previous attempt to accommodate others left me feeling uncomfortable and overwhelmed.
My husband, whose family lives nearby, is torn because he worries they’ll be upset if they’re not invited to the hospital. While I understand his desire to avoid hurt feelings, I find myself back in the same predicament as before: do I create a selective guest list or risk letting anyone in to avoid complaints?
Ultimately, we agreed that my feelings take precedence. It’s impossible to please everyone, nor should we be expected to. Why should I be stressed about family dynamics during my pregnancy? The focus should be on what we need as a family.
If I don’t want visitors post-delivery, then others must respect that. I deserve privacy and the right to prioritize my comfort over someone else’s feelings. This is one of those rare moments where it’s okay for mothers to be a little selfish.
We plan to inform hospital staff to restrict visitors. If that upsets anyone, they’ll need to come to terms with it. Attempting to dictate a new mother’s wishes regarding her visitors is simply inconsiderate. If they can’t respect my family’s needs during this significant time, I won’t lose sleep over how they feel.
Hospital staff, please close the door. No visitors allowed.