top of page
Search

The Lost Art of Mothering the Mother

What postpartum traditions around the world can teach us about recovery, rest, and support.


Imagine giving birth and being told to stay in bed.


Not because you were sick.


Not because you were incapable.


But because your community understood that bringing a new life into the world required recovery, nourishment, and care.


For most of human history, postpartum recovery was not something a mother navigated alone. Across cultures, continents, and generations, there was a shared understanding that birth marked the beginning of a sacred transition. During this time, the mother herself was mothered.


Her meals were prepared.


Her household responsibilities were lifted.


Her affairs were looked after.


Her only responsibilities were healing, feeding her baby, and gradually stepping into motherhood.


Today, many women leave the hospital within a day or two of giving birth. Some are answering emails, cooking meals, hosting visitors, or caring for older children almost immediately. We celebrate independence, productivity, and “bouncing back,” yet many mothers quietly wonder why they feel so depleted months or even years later.


The truth is that taking care of mothers after birth is not a new idea. It may be one of humanity's oldest traditions.


Across the world, cultures developed remarkably similar postpartum practices despite being separated by geography, language, religion, and time.


While the details varied, the message remained the same:

Birth changes a woman, and she deserves time and support to recover.


Here are a few examples from different cultures around the world:


  • China — Zuo Yue Zi ("Sitting the Month")

    Practiced for more than 2,000 years, Zuo Yue Zi traditionally involves 30 to 40 days of rest, warm foods, and protection from physical strain, with family members or caregivers supporting the mother and household. The practice is rooted in Traditional Chinese Medicine's belief that childbirth leaves the body vulnerable and in need of restoration.


  • South Korea — Sanhujori

    Sanhujori emphasizes warmth, nourishment, rest, and recovery during the weeks following birth. Traditionally supported by female relatives and now often through specialized postpartum care centers, it reflects the belief that proper postpartum care can influence a woman's long-term health.


  • Japan — Satogaeri Bunben

    In this tradition, many mothers return to their parents' home before and after birth so they can be cared for by their own mother and extended family. The arrangement allows the new mother to focus on healing and bonding with her baby while receiving practical and emotional support.


  • India — Jaappa and Ayurvedic Postpartum Care

    Many Indian families observe a postpartum recovery period of approximately 40 days, during which mothers are encouraged to rest, eat nourishing foods, and receive body care such as massage. Ayurvedic traditions view birth as a major physical and energetic transition requiring intentional restoration of strength and vitality.


  • Mexico and Latin America — La Cuarentena

    Observed throughout many Latin American cultures, La Cuarentena is a roughly 40-day period dedicated to healing, rest, and family support. Mothers are often relieved of household responsibilities while relatives assist with meals, childcare, and daily tasks.


  • Nigeria (Igbo People) — Omugwo

    In the Igbo tradition of Omugwo, a grandmother or elder female relative moves into the home to care for the mother and newborn. Along with practical help, she shares knowledge about infant care, prepares nourishing foods, and supports the mother's recovery.


  • Navajo (Diné Nation, Southwestern United States)

    Among the Navajo, childbirth has traditionally been viewed as a significant family and community event, with female relatives playing important roles in supporting the mother after birth. Care often included assistance with daily responsibilities, guidance from elder women, and protection of the mother's physical and spiritual well-being during recovery.


  • Inuit Communities (Arctic Regions of Alaska, Canada, and Greenland)

    Traditional Inuit postpartum practices relied heavily on extended family networks, particularly elder women, who helped care for both mother and baby. This support allowed the mother time to recover while knowledge of infant care and motherhood was passed down through generations.


  • Māori (Aotearoa/New Zealand)

    Māori traditions have long recognized childbirth as a major life transition connected to family, ancestry, and community. New mothers were traditionally supported by whānau (extended family), who helped provide care, nourishment, and practical assistance during the postpartum period.


  • Yoruba (Nigeria and Benin)

    Among the Yoruba, postpartum care has historically emphasized rest, warmth, and support from female relatives and elders. New mothers often received assistance with household duties and childcare while being encouraged to focus on recovery and bonding with their baby.



Different cultures.


Different foods.


Different rituals.


Different beliefs.


Yet somehow they all arrived at the same conclusion:

A mother should not have to do this alone.


One of the most common responses I hear when discussing these traditions is:

"That sounds wonderful, but it's not realistic."


And yet, perhaps the better question is:

  • Why does it feel unrealistic?

  • Does it feel strange to imagine resting after birth?

  • Does it feel selfish to accept help?

  • Does it feel uncomfortable to let someone else cook, clean, fold laundry, or hold the baby while you nap?


What did the mothers before us do?


Somewhere along many of our ancestral lines, we lost the understanding that community care is not a luxury. It is part of the recovery process itself.


There is a traditional saying often repeated in postpartum circles:

"The first 40 days shape the next 40 years."


Taken literally, that statement may feel extreme. But perhaps it points toward something deeper.


How many mothers do you know who still talk about being exhausted years after giving birth?


How many describe feeling depleted, disconnected, or never quite recovering their vitality?


How many have accepted postpartum hair loss, burnout, and chronic exhaustion as inevitable parts of motherhood?


While no tradition can guarantee perfect health, many postpartum systems were built around a simple observation: the way a mother is supported after birth matters.


Rest matters.


Nourishment matters.


Warmth matters.


Community matters.


And perhaps most importantly, mothers matter.


The beautiful thing is that returning to these traditions does not require recreating them perfectly.


You do not need a confinement nanny.


You do not need a grandmother living in your home.


You do not need to stay in bed for forty days.


You do not need to follow every custom exactly as your ancestors did.


You can begin by asking:

What would it look like to receive more support?

Who could help carry one responsibility?

What meals could be prepared in advance?

How can I create space for rest?

How can I build a village around this transition?


If you haven't read my article on building a postpartum village yet, I encourage you to start there. Traditional postpartum care was never meant to be done alone. It was built on the understanding that mothers thrive when the community supports them.


Perhaps the goal isn't to return to the past. Perhaps the goal is to remember what our ancestors understood all along: When a baby is born, a mother is born too. And she deserves care.


References

  1. Pillsbury, B. L. K. (1978). “Doing the Month”: Confinement and Convalescence of Chinese Women After Childbirth. Social Science & Medicine, 12, 11–22. https://doi.org/10.1016/0160-7987(78)90003-7

  2. Kim, Y. J., & Dee, V. (2018). Postpartum Care in Korean Culture: Sanhujori and Women's Health. Korean Journal of Women Health Nursing, 24(3), 231–239. https://doi.org/10.4069/kjwhn.2018.24.3.231

  3. Yoshida, K., Marks, M. N., Kibe, N., Kumar, R., Nakano, H., & Tashiro, N. (1997). Postnatal Depression in Japanese Women Who Have Returned to Their Parents' Home for Childbirth. Journal of Affective Disorders, 43(1), 69–75. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0165-0327(96)01434-6

  4. Choudhry, U. K. (1997). Traditional Practices of Women From India: Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Newborn Care. Journal of Obstetric, Gynecologic & Neonatal Nursing, 26(5), 533–539. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1552-6909.1997.tb02154.x

  5. Dennis, C. L., Fung, K., Grigoriadis, S., Robinson, G. E., Romans, S., & Ross, L. (2007). Traditional Postpartum Practices and Rituals: A Qualitative Systematic Review. Women and Birth, 20(4), 133–140.

  6. Okafor, I. P., & Dolapo, D. C. (2014). The Practice of Omugwo Among the Igbo of South-Eastern Nigeria and Its Implications for Maternal Health. African Journal of Reproductive Health, 18(4), 165–171.

  7. Gachupin, F. C., & Johnson, K. (2019). Native American Women's Perspectives on Pregnancy and Childbirth Traditions. Journal of Indigenous Research, 7(2).

  8. Briggs, J. L. (1998). Inuit Morality Play: The Emotional Education of a Three-Year-Old. Yale University Press.

  9. Pere, R. R. (1991). Te Wheke: A Celebration of Infinite Wisdom. Ao Ako Global Learning New Zealand.

  10. Dennis-Antwi, J. A., Dyson, S. M., & Smith, L. V. (2014). Experiences of Postnatal Care and Cultural Practices Among African Women in the Diaspora. Midwifery, 30(6), 737–744. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.midw.2013.08.007

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page