How nature helped me as a new mum

When I look back at my first year as a parent, I needed to find space where I could heal, quieten the noise around me, and just be present for the new life that was filling my heart with boundless love. Mother Nature gently welcomed me into that space.

I was recently led by my two year old son to a section of our local botanic gardens that is lined with 400 year old grass trees. As he took off his shoes and sat on the boardwalk, pushing down twigs and leaves through the gaps in the boardwalk, I reflected on what a special section this part of the gardens had become for me. It holds a special place because I used to sit here with him when he was a baby. He would enjoy his nap or snack while I unwinded in the presence of those ancient plants.

A nap in the shadows of ancient trees.

That spot would always be a deliberate choice. At the risk of sounding sentimental, I’d hope that we would receive the energy and blessings of these aged trees. It’s also where I’d take a moment to breathe, to reconnect with a place of peace. And while I’ll never know if those beautiful trees really did shower us with their blessings, I think there’s something to be said about feeling at home in the presence of trees that have seen generations of humans before me.

The benefits of nature for a new mum

We often hear how beneficial exposure to nature is for babies and children (and I couldn’t agree more). But we don’t often hear how healing and restful it can be for mums to spend time in nature as well.

The first year of motherhood is probably one of the most challenging and transformative years we experience. As we cradle our newborns and swim in love hormones, we also deal with some intense challenges: feeding difficulties, sleep deprivation, hormonal fluctuations. The list goes on.

I was also taken by surprise by the profound way in which my personal identity and my connection to the whole world changed. On top of that, as I got to know and bond with the soul I held in my grateful arms, there was so much noise to filter through - a stream of well meaning advice, passing comments that would needlessly keep swirling in my head, and of course my own doubts that could drown me. And amidst all the chaos and beauty that came with parenthood, those dishes and laundry wouldn’t stop calling my name.

Fortunately, there was one presence that was unfailing in her ability to comfort and pacify me - that of Mother Nature. She worked quietly as she let me sit with all my big feelings in her company. And when I’d get overwhelmed by the world’s eagerness and excitement that surrounds a baby, Mother Nature quietly made me feel seen too.

It felt as though she was taking care of me, so that I could take care of my son.

Where we enjoyed the sound of flowing water, and birds making a splash.

When I look back, I realise that getting outside regularly was important to my postpartum recovery (which takes more than just 6 weeks) and ongoing wellbeing. Nature is where the screams of dirty dishes and piling laundry would fade out. It’s where I’d get a break from thinking about the next meal I needed to cook.

Of course, all those tasks would be waiting for me back at home, but at least for those couple of hours in nature, I could enjoy a hushed and soothed mind.

That pause allowed clarity to set in. I could sort through all the noise in my head. I could see more clearly what mattered and where I needed to invest my energy.

In these moments where I’d touch peace, I could just be. I’d be fully present with the little miracle who was getting to experience the magic of the most mundane things - grass, gravel, soil etc. And I’d get to experience it all with him, with a fresh, innocent perspective.

I fondly remember how his studious eyes were so fixated on the grains of sand beneath our feet when I expected him to be impressed by the towering trees above us. Watching those little fingers try and grasp grass, which must have felt cool and tough in his hands, made me want to rake my own fingers through the ground as well.

My meditative moments.

These became my meditative moments, which I slowly allowed to replace the more structured meditation practices from my pre-parenting life. It was these moments in which I’d refuel myself and find the calm and strength to carry on.

And in these moments, when I was fully present with my son, I also formed some of my most cherished memories with him. The warmth of his skin on my body, the mini picnics the two of us had, even that one time where I got lost on our walk while he napped obliviously in the pram (thankfully I found my way back before he woke up) - they’re all priceless memories that I hope to never lose.

Mother Nature gave me a place to stop. And in doing so, she also gave me an opportunity to count my blessings. Because despite how drastically and quickly life was changing, I could see just how fortunate I was to be able to experience these precious moments.

What our time in nature looked like

It wasn’t quite the season for hard core adventure in my life, so I didn’t often go on hikes or bush walks in unfamiliar places. Getting the logistics right for such brave outings by myself would add a mental load I didn’t need. When it was just my son and I, our time in nature would comprise of simple and easy activities.

We’d go for leisurely walks in a park, preferably one that was free of traffic. We’d sit by flowing water trying to catch the warm sun on a wintery day, or we’d park ourselves in the shade of a tree while we enjoyed some snacks. We’d have little picnics, whether in a public space or in our own front yard. And we’d crawl and walk barefoot on grass as my son’s mobility increased.

On rainy days, we’d stand undercover and stretch out our hands to feel the raindrops on our palm. Or we’d sit in a sheltered place and take in the sights and sounds of rainfall.

Refreshed by raindrops.

Even when we couldn’t go for walks or drive to local parks - my son didn’t tolerate car or pram rides for around 5 months - I’d just step into our backyard with him and relish the nature at home. He’d have lots of nature to engage his senses, while I’d get a moment to expand the space around me and take in a good dose of fresh air.

Occasionally we did go out for bush or coastal walks, but we generally kept those adventures for when my husband (or one other adult) was able to join us. That way if our son protested being pushed around in the pram, we could take turns to carry him.

When my son turned six months, in the middle of winter, I also signed him up for an outdoor playgroup. We dressed appropriately for the weather and joined a bunch of other parents with their young children. The facilitator took on the mental and physical load of organising the activities, while I got to enjoy some picturesque surroundings and indulge in some creative activities with my son. (Two years on, he is still a part of the outdoor playgroup.)

Nature and fun at outdoor playgroup.

In hindsight, the only thing I would have liked to do differently in my first year as a parent is to have pursued these outdoor activities more intentionally. I regularly took my son out in nature understanding the benefits that it offered him, but I wish I was also aware of how necessary those outings were for my own wellbeing. I hope any new mum who reads this will be more aware of the treasures Mother Nature holds for our recovery and revitalisation in that intense first year.

Mother Nature continues to take care of us

Now that my son is a toddler, our time in nature continues to play an important role in my wellbeing.

I find I rarely have to deal with a tantrum when we’re outside. There is so much for a toddler to explore, investigate and experiment with outside the four walls of our home. Outside, we both get a break from fighting over screen time or sugar!

Just as grandparents often come to offer reprieve to exhausted parents, Mother Nature also generously takes over the entertainment of an energetic toddler while I get a breather.

Being present for life.

Obviously I can’t switch off entirely. Toddlers are curious creatures, and there are hazards in nature that I can’t overlook - like when my grounded kid insists on walking barefoot in bull ant territory (hazards exist in our homes too though. We just have to learn to manage them).

Despite that attentiveness on my part, out in nature, I can feel my shoulders relax. I can breathe more deeply, and I become present for the life that comes together to greet us.

As I sat next to my son on the boardwalk that day, surrounded by 400 year old grass trees, I felt gratitude not just for the happy moments with my son, but also for what Mother Nature had been offering me all along. And as I smiled in awe of the game my son had just made up, I quietly hoped in my heart that those trees from my great, great grandparents’ era were smiling with us.