Omugwo Without Backup: How My Husband and I Survived Postpartum Alone!

Xplorers, una gats hear this gist! My name is Chioma Adeyemi.

So…I never imagined that my postpartum story would start with the words: “It was just hubby and me… and a tiny screaming human we created.” But here we are.

After 13 hours of soul-snatching labour pain 😩, I gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl 👶🏽 in August. The moment I saw her tiny face, it was like all the pain disappeared. Poof! That’s when reality hit, it was time for omugwo! 🍼

Our plan was simple: my mom would come two weeks after delivery to help out for another two weeks. I wanted those first days to be just hubby and I bonding with our new miracle before the parade of aunties, uncles, neighbours, and well-wishers took over the house 😂.

But life had other plans. I delivered at 42 weeks (yes, baby girl overstayed her welcome like NEPA bills), and by then, my mom had to go in for a minor but serious surgery. She still insisted on coming to help, but how? I couldn’t risk her health. 😢

So I called up my MIL (mother-in-law) and gave her an open invitation to come help during my postpartum period. She declined for reasons best known to her 🙃. So it became clear, this was going to be a two-man squad operation: Hubby and I versus this new world of nappies, sleepless nights, and breast pumps. 💪🏽🍼

Now, I’m one of four girls, and I’ve been the official babysitter of my family since forever. From nieces to cousins, I’d done the rounds. So I wasn’t panicking, yet. The moment I found out my mom couldn’t come, I did the Nigerian mother thing: I cooked like I was opening a buka. 😆 Jollof, egusi, okro, soup for Africa! Everything was portioned and stacked neatly in the freezer like gold in a vault.

Then the real MVP showed up, my husband . After I gave birth, that man turned into my personal butler, chef, and home assistant. He served me hot meals , mopped floors , changed diapers like a pro, and even made sure my water bottle stayed full, super important for a breastfeeding mama! 💦🍼

I didn’t lift a finger for the first few days. As tired as I was, I still managed to bathe our baby from day one, and that was the scariest part! 😱

Imagine bathing a tiny, slippery, squirming baby that looked like a porcelain doll. Every time I carried her, my heart skipped like Nigerian network. I added a bit of olive oil and milk to her water because someone said it was good, BIG MISTAKE. That water turned to ice rink! I nearly lost grip of her once and screamed “JESUS!” like I was in a deliverance service. 🤯😅

But we survived.

My friends couldn’t believe it. “You mean you’re doing all this without help?” They were shocked. I was shocked too 😆. I would’ve loved my mom there for emotional support, but we pulled through.

The hard part came when hubby had to return to work less than a week after delivery. 😞 That silence in the house? E choke. It was just me, baby girl, and all the hormonal waves.

But God did. 🙌🏽

By the time both my mom and MIL (mother-in-law) came to visit, when baby was 3 months old, I was already a seasoned mama. Bath time? No longer a horror movie. Breastfeeding? I could do it with my eyes closed (and often did). Midnight cries? I had a playlist and routine. I was ready to write a manual 😂.

Sure, I had all the fears new moms have: “Am I doing it right?” “Is she okay?” “Did I clean her nose too hard?” But I trusted God, leaned on YouTube, and called my sisters more than MTN customer care 😂📞.

Motherhood is wild. One minute you’re crying because the baby pooped after you just cleaned her, and the next you’re kissing her tiny feet like she’s royalty 👣.

But honestly? It’s the best job I’ve ever had.

To everyone waiting for their miracle, I see you. I feel you. And I’m praying your joy comes soon. 💛✨