I Miss the Old Us
How to Find Your Way Back to Each Other After Having a Baby
It's a secret sadness so many new mothers carry — and one most do not discuss out loud. In the midst of the beautiful mayhem of a newborn baby entering the world, it's hard not to feel like your relationship with your partner is slipping through your fingers. You miss the easy laughter and the brush of hands and having properly taken each other in past the diapers and the dishes and the relentless, crushing fatigue. Not that the love vanishes but that the love is shoved out of sight under layers of new responsibility, new identities and an exhaustion that words can hardly describe.
If this makes you feel like heart-torn-in-two, let me tell you this: You are not alone, and you are not failing.
So many couples get stuck on those opposite banks when they become parents, gazing at each other and panting, hungry and unclear how to navigate out to the other side. In the midst of feeding and sleepless nights, it's natural to feel sad for the "old us," even as we attempt to become a new family that's more than just us. The amazing thing is that the opportunity to reconnect is easily some of the most beautiful love story chapters. Let's talk about how.
"Post-baby, how the relationship changes.
A baby is a miracle, but also a seismic event.
"You are not that couple who turned up in that delivery room. You have already been risen in your own way, a new assignment that requires so much more of you physically, emotionally, intellectually.
This transition often brings:
- Unceasing deprivation, which compound irritations and frays the temper
- You lost yourself; you don't feel like you anymore.
- Invisible injustices of labor and the unspoken grudge that builds up
- Recovery from childbirth and the hormonal free-for-all, changing needs and availability
There is one obvious reason sex might take a leave of absence: the reclamation of your body for yourself — or a full night's sleep.
All of a sudden, the emotional and physical closeness that fir the two of you together like two pieces of a puzzle (and because you were young, possibly pretty much worked on its own) is something you have to work at — and sometimes it doesn't come naturally.
It's a helpful reminder to yourself and your spouse that all of this is not because you don't love each other anymore.
It's that you're both stretched so thin that there's not a great deal of excess tenderness available.
The Quiet Loss of Missing 'Us'
The weight of knowing is unspeakable sorrow that I've found resting so quietly in so many women I know:
Who you were once, that pair that you were.
You miss the random kitchen dances, the hushed pillow talk that's really only party of two bantering in bed, the conversations that didn't get muzzled by cranks from a baby monitor. You miss being seen, the way you were when you were chosen and wanted and not only needed.
This grief is real and valid.
It's not that you're not grateful for your child. It simply means you're human.
Because if you have to have a sobriety policy, you might as well have a cool one. And because like my abuela used to say, "You can bless the rain and still miss the sun.
To say this grief aloud, to each other and to oneself, is powerful. It allows for healing rather than concealment.
5 Genuine Ways to Return to Intimacy and Connection
Name the Shift Without Blame
The first bridge we can build back to each other is vulnerability.
Look for a moment of partial peace (a half-break is a worthy find!), and softly name what you're experiencing — not as if to scold, but as if to whisper an invitation.
You might say:
🗣️ "We've been missing each other lately. I know we're both doing the best we can, but I just don't feel as close, and I miss you."
Blame shuts hearts down. Vulnerability blows them wide open.
For all of you, this kind of truth-telling is how you make it clear that you and he are on the same team, that the two of you are ganging up as partners against the challenge, rather than against each other.
"Even in these novel scenarios where we have relatively little or no control of the stressors, some sources of soothing and comfort persist," Dr. Saltz said.
Big date nights might feel absurdly far from where you are right now. That's okay. Even small rituals of connection can hold great meaning.
- A 30 second kiss in the morning and another at night
- Relax with my feet up and a cup of tea, once baby is down for the night
- Texting "I love you" for no good reason in the middle of the day off the cuff
Small, nagging things say to your spouse, "You still matter to me."
Little by little, these stitches grow into a new fabric of intimacy.
Validating Each Other's Emotional Labor and Fatigue
Underlying every achievement, there is the invisible emotional labor.
Rather than keeping score ("I did the dishes and you were on your phone!")., practice validation:
💬 "I know you're tired too. Thank you for what you're doing right now, with what you have in your hand."
💬 "I know how hard you're working, and I don't say it all the time.
Recognition builds trust. Trust builds intimacy.
And don't forget — emotional exhaustion can be mistaken for emotional disconnection. We can tell them apart because of empathy.
Practice Physical Touch (Without the Stress of the Attached Sex)
It is so major to get physical intimacy going in postpartum (let alone beyond).
Sex may seem light years away — for either of you or both of you. That's normal. Instead, focus on the safe, relationship-affirming nonsexual touch.
- Holding hands during a walk
- Can't we be two shows away from the show, shoulder to shoulder
- Rubbing lotion on each other's sore feet
Pressureless love keeps both of you in the mindset that you are still I a team, you're still human and that you still love each other, even your most tired selves.
This is a season (one that he'll outgrow)
In those disorienting early weeks of new parenthood, the disjunction can seem as if it will never end.
It won't.
Babies grow. Sleep improves. Your capacity expands.
This hard season, all hard seasons, will eventually crack open into a new rhythm.
What I've been taught in my own family goes something like this:
"Just like the flowers, love can lose the petals — but if you take care of the roots, the plant will grow."
And your relationship isn't coming apart. (Messily, haltingly, gently, even.) It's deepening.
When to Seek Extra Support
And there are times when, try as you might, the chasm can feel impossible to bridge alone.
If your every conversation has become a World War III and/or makes you feel so emotionally unsafe, couples counseling should be a life raft, not a last resort.
A good therapist can address both:
- Learn new communication tools
- Erase old scars, of parenthood's exposure
When you think you can't see what comes next(pretend you can)
"For you, your partner and your soon-to-be- expanding family, it really is an act of love to feel good about asking for help.
Related: [How I Saved My Marriage After Dying to Save My Baby.]
Closing Affirmation
HAPPILY EVER AFTER "The 'old us' might be over (in its place, something even more beautiful than we can fathom:
An "us" made in sleepless nights, awkward talks and the bold decision to still keep grabbing at each other.
You are not alone. You are writing a different kind of love story — one that, some day, your children will grow up swaddled by.
Love from my family to yours: Hug each other, hold on to each other, especially if it (feels) impossible. "Still here love waiting for you to let me back in." 🫶
Marisol