Navigating the First Year

Marriage Challenges After Baby

Let's be real. Nothing — I mean, nothing — can prepare you and your relationship for what happens after a baby comes out. I thought we were solid. The move in together, the cross-country road trip, that one Christmas with both sets of in-laws. But parenthood? That was an entirely new battlefield.

The first year was a foggy rollercoaster — the kind everyone's too short to ride and the poking, stabbing safety bar — that kind. We were running on fumes (and caffeine, and crusted spit-up shirts), trying to love a new human while secretly wondering if we even still liked each other.

It's crazy how two people can be so on the same page when it comes to planning for a baby's nursery, and light years away from each other when you're trying to get through the fourth consecutive night of zero! sleep.

The Quiet Battles That Sneaked In

I was not prepared for how much this baby would change us. I figured we'd be Team Awesome, handing off diapers like Olympic baton runners and high-fiving each other over late-night feedings. Instead, we devolved into a pair of sleep-deprived, over-caffeinated zombies who only spoke in passive-aggressive sighs and sarcastic one-liners.

Then there are the things no one tells you:

The resentment creep. It began gradually — such as with the fact that I was always the one making the bottles while he "did research" on swaddling techniques. (Really? At 3 a.m.?)

The mental load divide. I kept tabs on pediatrician appointments and pumping sessions, on babies' sleep schedules and on whether the damn dog had been fed. He wanted to know which cabinet the baby's socks were in.

The intimacy blackout. After the six-week clearance from the OB, I figured we'd have some kind of magical reunion. Spoiler: We did not. I was rubbed out, he was bewildered, and neither of us was able to figure out how to broach the subject.

There were times — low times — when I looked at him and thought, Are we even going to survive this?

What Worked (And Didn't Just Make It Worse)

There were no Pinterest boards or Instagram "#couplegoals" posts that saved our marriage. Soft-spoken, gritty, awkward attempts to reconnect helped. The unpretty stuff. The daily choices to fight for us, not just the baby.

We Had a Real, Ugly, Cry Conversation

One evening, after a particularly jampacked bedtime and an oddly frigid dinner, I said it: "It's like we're roommates with a baby." It stopped him cold. Not that — not because he didn't feel it, but because he did and didn't know how to say it.

That talk was a hot stew of tears, gaffes, and truths. But it was the start of us crawling back.

We Ditched the Scorecard

A diagram? How very tempting it is to tot it all up. Who woke up more. Who changed the last blowout. Who's trying harder. But that only widened the gap. When we began asking, "What do you need today?" rather than "What have I done yesterday?", things started to shift.

We Held 10-Minute Nightly Check-ins

Nothing fancy. Just sat down—phones off—after baby went to sleep to ask:

• "Which part of your day was the most difficult?"
• "What do you need to do tomorrow to feel better?"

It felt forced at first. Then it became sacred. We still had our disagreements, but we were showing up.

We Said Yes to Counseling

We did two sessions over Zoom while the baby napped. Game-changer. It has given us language we didn't have by asking questions like, "Is it useful?" It might be useful at times, like: "I'm not mad at you, I'm overwhelmed." We learned not to talk as prosecutors, but as teammates.

We Created a "Just Us" Ritual

We chose one thing that wasn't baby related, something that allowed us to slow down from the frantic day and reminded us of what we loved about each other — making each other coffee in the early mornings before the rest of the world woke up.

That's it. No parenting talk, no logistics of the timeline? Just two humans reuniting with room temp caffeine and eye contact.

What I Want You to Know, Mama

If you're in the haze of the newborn days, not even sure if you like your partner any more...you're not broken. You're normal. The first year is a pressure cooker, and nobody gets through it without a burn or two.

You can rebuild. Not overnight. Not without effort. But by the time, truth and grace that version of "us" that you will see on the other side? She's wiser. Scrappier. Softer where it counts.

We got this. 💪