The Year That Tests Your Marriage (and Teaches You Everything About Love)
You finally sit down next to your partner at the end of the day, exhausted and barely able to keep your eyes open, and then it hits you: you haven’t really looked at each other in weeks. Not in the way you used to at least. Not with anything other than survival-mode glances.
And that’s when what everyone told you before baby arrived becomes painfully clear—having a baby changes everything, especially your marriage.
Before baby, you probably imagined this dreamy team effort: laughing at each other’s jokes, cooking together, maybe even stealing a kiss in the kitchen.
Instead, you’re navigating sleepless nights, endless diapers, and schedules so rigid you feel like a walking calendar. The first year is hard—emotionally, physically, sexually, mentally.
And yet, no one really talks about it. It’s embarrassing, awkward, and unsettling to talk about with others and yet EVERY couple goes through it. You’re not alone.
The Emotional Shift
Emotionally, nothing prepares you for having a baby. The moment my husband and I came home from the hospital I was already sleep-deprived.
After a 23-hour induction, challenging labor (with 3 hours of pushing), and a 4-day hospital stay (elongated by jaundice and a baby struggling to nurse), I was beyond exhausted. Hormones were all over the place, and my identity as a partner shifted overnight.
In fact, it was virtually non-existent. My entire focus became my 7-pound bundle of joy with a full head of hair and a hunger cry that pierced through the house every 2 hours on the dot (especially throughout the night).
I cried over the most minor moments and being needed in any capacity outside of my baby’s needs were simply too much. I thought you were only supposed to experience joy and a bit of soreness from the stitches. WRONG. I. Felt. So. Guilty.
Guilty for not being able to nurse my son. Guilty for not “doing enough” around the house. Guilty for not “doing enough” for my husband. And yet, I kept all of those feelings to myself, only to express them in random bouts of sobbing, leaving my husband confused and frustrated that he couldn’t give solutions, and grieving (in his own way) how our relationship looked just days before.
Feeling disconnected or resentful doesn’t mean your marriage is broken OR that you don’t love the new life you’ve created. It just means you’re navigating one of life’s hardest transitions a couple can go through. It’s beautiful and worth it, but it’s so hard.
Tip: Give yourself permission to feel it all. Your body is healing, your hormones are shifting, and your emotions are doing somersaults. The baby blues are real and can linger heavily for a few weeks. Cry when you need to, rest when you can, and let the dishes (and expectations) wait. You don’t need to “bounce back” right away, this season is about letting yourself slow down and be human.
The Physical and Sexual Disconnect
Next comes intimacy—or the lack thereof it. Postpartum bodies are healing, sleep deprivation is real, and hormones can make sex feel impossible or anxiety-inducing. Desire doesn’t automatically return, and that’s completely normal.
Partners may feel rejected or confused, while new mothers feel overstimulated or self-conscious. Touch can feel like another demand instead of comfort. But intimacy isn’t gone—it’s just evolving.
Micro-intimacy tips:
Hold hands while watching TV
Intentionally hug at least once a day
Offer a back rub or foot massage without expecting sex
Share unguarded, silly moments like narrating what your baby must be thinking in the challenging parts of parenting
These small gestures build emotional closeness, which lays the groundwork for physical reconnection when the time is right.
The Mental Load and Communication Breakdown
Another hidden pressure? The mental load. Someone has to track bottles, diaper counts, doctor appointments, sleep schedules, and everything else that keeps a tiny human alive. When both partners carry this silently, resentment builds.
I assumed my husband was resentful because I didn’t feel I was pulling my weight around the house. But it took me a long time to say that to him. Little did I know he was feeling like he wasn’t doing enough for me. We were both walking on eggshells and pushing ourselves harder than we needed to, furthering the burnout we were both feeling.
But acknowledgment is transformative: “I see all the work you’re doing” can be more powerful than any romantic gesture. Having a discussion about who should take on what responsibilities and acknowledging how thankful we were for the other was all we both needed to hear.
Tip: Try a weekly 10-minute check-in. Go through what’s overwhelming, what worked, and where help is needed. This small ritual reduces stress and prevents invisible resentment from growing.
The Uneven Shift
There’s this other layer no one warns you about—the quiet resentment that bubbles up when your partner’s life doesn’t seem to change the way yours does. They can still go out without calculating how long until the next feeding, still meet a friend for drinks, still sleep without flinching at every baby grunt through the monitor.
They don’t carry the same postpartum anxiety, the guilt over leaving the baby, or the constant mental scroll of what needs to be done.
Meanwhile, you’re home all day with barely any adult conversation, trying to remember who you are beyond being a mom. And when you do get a moment to yourself, you feel too guilty or too tired to actually use it.
But here’s the thing—you have to. Time for yourself can’t just be a shower or a quick scroll in silence. That’s survival, not restoration. Showering and basic self-care shouldn’t feel like luxuries—they’re needs.
Your partner needs to encourage that space for you, yes, but you also have to take it. You have to claim it, without guilt. Because the truth is, you can’t pour into your marriage—or your baby—from an empty cup.
Tip: Don’t wait for permission to rest. Schedule real time for yourself—an hour alone at a coffee shop, a solo walk, a call with a friend. It’s not selfish, it’s survival.
Finding the Connection Amid Chaos
Connection in year one of baby is less about date nights and more about intentional, everyday moments. Laughing over spit-up incidents, texting each other silly memes during nap time (stifling laughter so you don’t wake the baby asleep on your chest), or simply sharing a quiet cup of coffee together.
It’s also about redefining intimacy: teamwork, empathy, humor, and shared vulnerability. These moments can create a foundation for a marriage that feels even stronger than before baby.
Tip: Celebrate small wins. Did your partner handle bedtime? Did you manage to nap while the baby slept? Did they bring you a snack or drink while feeding the baby without you asking? Recognize it, verbally. Gratitude reinforces connection.
Choosing Love
Personally, what helped me most was learning to let go of perfection. Real connection is messy, chaotic, and often happens in stolen moments, like laughing while folding laundry with the baby strapped to my chest, pumping bra on (and stained with breastmilk), and greasy hair in a horrendously messy bun.
The first year stretches your marriage emotionally, physically, and mentally. But it can also deepen it—if you allow space for grace, humor, and honesty. Vulnerability, patience, laughter, and micro-moments of connection are your tools in this season.
Next time you sit beside your partner, exhausted and frazzled, take a deep breath. Reach for their hand, say a sincere “thank you,” or share a tired smile. Surviving—and even thriving—in this first year isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up in all the messy, wonderful ways you can for the people you love. And that is nothing short of beautiful.
