Six Months In: The Truth About Life After Baby

How Has It Been Almost a Year?!

How has it been almost a year since I’ve written a blog? That is… wild. I honestly can’t even fathom it. A whole year? What even is time anymore?

Okay—so we’re here today for a little life catch-up. Emphasis on the little part being a lie, because it’s been a lot. This might be a long one. Buckle up. I’m sorry for disappearing for so long. I know a lot of you read these because I try to be honest about what’s really going on in my world, and I haven’t been great about showing up here. But life kind of came in like a tidal wave and just swept me under for a bit.

So… we had a baby.

Yeah. That’s a pretty casual way to say it, but that’s the headline. Our sweet Becks was born on June 25, 2025—two weeks early. Leah’s water broke naturally, and that whole experience? It was beautiful. Absolutely mind-blowing. Watching Leah bring him into the world was one of the most awe-inspiring things I’ve ever seen. The strength, the power, the magic of her body doing that? I will never forget it.

But let’s talk about the hard stuff. I know that’s why a lot of you come here. Because I try not to sugarcoat the messier parts. And truthfully? The first three months after Becks was born… they sucked.

I thought I’d love him right away. I loved him so much when he was still inside Leah’s body. I assumed that love would just automatically transfer once he was in my arms. But it didn’t. And that was brutal to admit to myself. I didn’t feel connected to him. I didn’t feel like his mom. I could’ve walked away and been okay, and that made me feel like a monster.

We were exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally. Just completely drained. Leah and I did an amazing job tag-teaming everything—we were absolutely in it together—but I had so many unrealistic expectations. I thought, our relationship is solid, we communicate well, adding a baby will just be this beautiful, chaotic addition to our already great life. Nope. It was a straight-up punch in the face.

I barely remember anything from those first few months. Honestly, if you asked me what we did on any specific day, I couldn’t tell you. It's all a blur. But around the three-to-four-month mark, something started shifting. Becks started showing a little personality. He started to feel like a person. And I started to feel like a mom. That deep, overwhelming love everyone talks about—it finally started to sneak in.

But as that connection with Becks grew, I started mourning something else: my relationship with Leah.

It wasn’t that I didn’t miss her in those first few months—we were just in pure survival mode. But as soon as I started to feel a tiny sliver of joy or normalcy again, I realized how much I missed my partner. My wife. The girl I’ve spent the last ten years loving.

We became two people in a house keeping a baby alive. That's it. Our relationship fell to the bottom of the list—not intentionally, but out of necessity. Leah’s body had just been through the ringer. Her emotions were all over the place. Mine too. And suddenly I was grieving something I didn’t even realize I’d lost: us.

That was a loss I didn’t see coming. And I still miss her. I still miss the version of our life where we were just us. If you’re not 1000% sure you want to have a kid, don’t. I’m serious. It changes you. Irrevocably. I still don’t understand how so many people have gone through this.

Okay, circling back to the little guy—we made it to six months. Becks turned six months old on Christmas Day. And oh my God, this kid. He is all smiles. Pure sunshine in a tiny human body.

But also—can we talk about the four-month sleep regression?!? I didn’t even know that was a thing, and it nearly wrecked us. He had been sleeping decently, and then BAM. No sleep. For what felt like eternity (but was actually just three weeks). Pure chaos. Zero mercy.

Now, though? Things are better. I love him, and he loves me. He lights up when I walk into the room. His laugh? It undoes me. I couldn’t imagine my life without him now.

There’s still grief. There’s still loss. Our relationship is still something I mourn, but there’s also hope. Leah and I are both focusing on ourselves a bit more. Trying to refill our own cups so we can show up for each other and for Becks. And this new year? It feels like a reset. A real one.

But wait—there’s more. Because apparently I don’t do anything halfway.

Back in August, I decided to try again. After a failed transfer, I went for another round of IVF. And that one took… until it didn’t. I was pregnant, and then I wasn’t. I had a miscarriage.

It wasn’t just the loss of the pregnancy. It was the toll of the entire process. The shots. The hormones. The constant monitoring. I felt like a stranger to myself. And when it ended, all I could think was, If I want to try again, I’ll have to go through ALL of that again. And I just can’t. Not right now.

So I’m pausing. Not forever, maybe. But for now, I’m not planning to carry another child. It doesn’t feel like love. It feels like grief. And that’s not the energy I want to bring into anything that’s supposed to be about creating life.

Right now, I’m just enjoying Becks. And enjoying Leah. And trying to enjoy myself, too. This year will be a year of travel. Of movement. Of seeing things and doing things as a little family. I want to live in the now a little more. So: Happy New Year. We made it.

I want to be more intentional this year. I really want to work on my solo podcast For the Hayters. I want to keep showing up in this space. This blog is kind of freeing for me—like I can put all the things I’m carrying somewhere outside of my own body. And it reminds me how far I’ve come.

So, if you’re here—thank you. Truly. Let me know what you want to hear more about. Maybe I can stick to one blog a month. No promises, but I’ll try.

Because through all of this—the exhaustion, the heartbreak, the change—I still wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s. I wouldn’t undo any of it. I’m so deeply grateful for the life I have, and I’m genuinely curious and hopeful about what’s coming next.

Let’s see what 2026 holds. 💛

— Becky

If you want a look at the day we become moms check out my Becoming Moms Vlog