This is the first installment of 100 Days of Post-Partum: A Daily Maedup (매듭). Each day, I tie a traditional Korean knot and write a short reflection beginning with “Today I want to remember…” If you’re new here, start with the introduction.
The first ten days. From the delivery room to our first snowfall. These knots hold the intensity of arrival: the bone-deep exhaustion, the overwhelming love, the pain I wasn’t prepared for, and the slow, fragile return to something resembling life. They move from red and gold to navy to soft blue to snow white. They are heavy and tender and hopeful.
Day 0. Arrival
Today I want to remember that intensity of feeling as we saw and held our baby for the first time. This life I’ve been growing inside me for the last 10 months. Part me, part Josh. He’s finally here. After the miscarriages, he is a blessing. Jimin Lee.
Butterfly knot in red and gold. The day felt intensely physical, emotional, and special.
Day 1. In the Dark, Still Strong
Today I want to remember the pain of labour and the importance and value of recovery. My body went through a major trauma; almost a rite of passage in this journey of motherhood. Even without the baby next to me, sleep still eludes me because of the pain. But I want to remember that I am powerful. I have strength. And I need Josh.
Three knots in navy blue. The day felt weighty, dark, heavy, with a little lift towards the end, like a deep inky night sky.
Day 2. Cocooned
Today I want to remember the image of Josh holding Jimin for the first time. The feeling of carrying him over our threshold. The way he is so fully embraced and loved by his entire family. There’s a deep, eternal warmth of love that cocoons Jimin, even as my body hurts. He is held. We are held.
Concentric knot in soft, glowing colours with sky blue. Like the inside of a lantern; warm, protective, cocoon-like.
Day 3. Open and Held
Today I want to remember the image of Josh sitting on the sofa in the dark. I’ve just finished breastfeeding. Jimin is on his lap, semi-snoozing. The TV flickers in the background, Josh watching something on his phone. Our new normal.
Soft sky blue for openness and the wide view over the lake, grounded by warm earth brown for the steady, rooted feeling of home and family.
Day 4. Tiny Joys in the Routine
Today I want to remember the small moments. Jimin looking up at me, pulling funny faces and then smiling. I love those searching eyes. Josh said the same thing to me today. Jimin smiled at him and I could see the joy and love on his face.
Soft pink for tenderness and the quiet, intimate moments. Yellow for the flashes of joy that light up the routine.
Day 5. Stepping Back into the Light
Today I want to remember my first date post-partum with Josh. Getting dressed to go out. Slipping on my jewellery. Putting on my shoes. Stepping into the fresh air. Feeling the sun on my face. Walking through this old, quaint neighbourhood filled with couples and young families. Hand in hand with Josh. The last warm day before a chill descends on Seoul. We stroll, we people-watch, we sit in a cute coffee shop. My heart feels replenished. My fears feel calmer.
Pale yellow and light blue-grey intertwined. The shift from fog to sunlight and the gentle, hopeful clarity of our first date post-partum.
Day 6. Milk & Metamorphosis
Today I want to remember this strange, in-between day when my body felt like a milk machine and a miracle all at once. My breasts huge, heavy, hot; my belly slowly contracting back into a version of me I barely recognise. I’m in awe of how adaptable my body is, and yet I’m not always sure it still belongs to me. I want to remember the sunshine on our walk to the hospital and my favourite coffee shop, and also the tear-filled evening that followed. The wave of uncertainty, inexperience, confusion, guilt, frustration, sadness and worthlessness that crashed over me. Not because I want to stay there, but because this, too, is part of my metamorphosis into motherhood, and I am more than my hormones, more than my pain.
Navy and ivory intertwined. The heaviness of feeling submerged and overwhelmed against the softness of milk, sunlight and care. An in-between day.
Day 7. Auspicious Name
Today I want to remember the abundance of love and support pouring in from around the world, and how Jimin is an auspicious, blessed name that holds his multiple cultural inheritances, from Korean Christianity to Hindu Vedic traditions. He is a child of a globalised world. I also want to remember how cute he is for a newborn; Josh and I fully expected an alien / old-man baby after all the jokes we’d heard. Now we just hope the looks stick and he grows into a good-looking young man with a name as big as his sky.
Deep green for growth and grounding in this new chapter. Pink for the love and blessing surrounding Jimin and his name.
Day 8. Rest and Recovery
Today I want to remember the doctor saying I’m healing well. Textbook recovery. But I feel like a lab animal. Prodded, poked, undressed, opened up, inserted. The irritation of my stitches. The lingering pain when I sit. The small ritual of a sitz bath; lowering myself into a shallow basin of warm water, letting it soothe me, cleanse me. My pain still lingers but is more manageable. Time is the medicine. I rest often. My priority is healing. I am moving forwards.
Blues for the hospital checks and the sitz bath water, and for the calm, steady healing that’s beginning.
Day 9. First Snow
Today I want to remember the first snow of the season, and the first snow of Jimin’s life. Snowflakes wafting gently down, softly covering everything in white. The cosy, festive feeling in the air. An indulgent mocha for me, a fresh cut for Josh, tiny smiles from Jimin as his umbilical cord falls off. It’s the beginning of his first winter. A season of sparkles and small joys.
Soft white for the first snow, the blanketed park, the icy lake. Blue for the cold winter air. Gold for the magic of first snow.
These first ten days moved from the raw intensity of arrival to the first quiet settling. From red and gold to snow white. The next ten will carry us into December, deeper into winter, and deeper into the rhythm of this new life.
Continue to Days 10–19 → (Coming Soon)
This is part of 100 Days of Post-Partum: A Daily Maedup (매듭). Follow the daily knots on Instagram @maltiblee or facebook
