Resguardo in Brazil, postpartum in the United States: what changed and what got lost

In Brazil, the weeks after birth have a name. We call them the resguardo. Many families also call them the quarentena, because of the number that comes with them: forty days.

The idea is very old and very simple. For about forty days after a baby is born, the mother is set apart.

She stays home, she rests, and she is cared for. Someone else runs the house.

Brazil is not alone in this. Many cultures around the world have their own version of this protected time, often around the same forty days. The details change, but the heart is the same.

What the resguardo looks like

The resguardo is different in every region and in every family, so what I describe here is a picture, not a rulebook.

Usually, someone comes. A mother, a mother-in-law, a sister, an aunt, a neighbor.

They cook, they wash, they sweep, they hold the baby between feeds so the new mother can sleep. Very often there is a warm pot of canja, a simple chicken and rice soup, on the stove.

Visits are kept short, or kept away. The mother is not expected to host anyone, make coffee or look put together. She is expected to heal.

Around that core there are many traditions, and some of them are specific rules for the body.

Stay away from wind and cold, keep your feet covered, do not lift anything heavy, do not do housework. In some families, do not wash your hair, avoid certain foods, stay in bed most of the day, or wear a tight binder around the belly.

I will come back to those rules in a moment. First I want to say what I think the resguardo really is. It is a whole community agreeing, out loud, that a woman who just gave birth needs to be taken care of.

What changes in the United States

Here, postpartum often looks very different.

Many mothers go home from the hospital within a couple of days. The family may be spread across states, or across countries.

Partners often go back to work soon. The first full checkup can feel very far away. Visitors come to meet the baby, and the new mother gets up to offer them something to drink.

There is also a quiet expectation to be back to normal quickly. Back to the house, back to the errands, back to looking like yourself. For many women, the forty days shrink to a few days of rest, if that.

Nobody sat down and decided that mothers here should be alone. It is what happens when the people who used to show up live far away, work full time, or assume that you have it handled.

For Brazilian families living here, there is a double loss. You know what the resguardo is supposed to feel like.

You are living it without the people who would have made it happen. That grief is real, and it deserves a name, too.

What I keep, and what I talk through with a doctor

I live between two cultures, and I bring both into my work. I bring the warmth and leveza of Brazil, together with the boundaries and intentional holding of space that have shaped my experience in the United States.

As a doula, I support and inform, and medical decisions belong with your provider. When it comes to the resguardo, I do not think you have to choose between your culture and your care.

Some parts of the resguardo are simply good care, and I would keep them without hesitation:

• Rest as a real priority, not a reward you earn.
• Warm, nourishing food, made by someone else.
• Protection from too many visitors, and permission to say not yet.
• Someone else taking care of the house.
• No rush to lift, clean and perform being back to normal.
• The understanding that the mother is the one being cared for, not the host.

Other parts are worth a conversation with your OB, midwife or pediatrician, because today's medical guidance may be different:

• Not bathing or washing your hair for weeks. Most providers today encourage showering after birth, and keeping clean matters for healing, especially with stitches or a cesarean incision. Ask yours what is right for you.
• Staying in bed most of the day. Rest is essential. Many providers also encourage gentle movement, like short walks around the house, as your body allows. Ask what they recommend for your recovery.
• Avoiding whole groups of food. Your body needs good nourishment right now, especially if you are breastfeeding. If a food rule means you end up eating very little, talk it through with your provider.
• A tight belly binder. Some mothers find a support garment comfortable. How tight, how long and how soon, especially after a cesarean, are questions for your provider.
• Bundling the baby heavily against the cold. Babies can overheat. Ask your pediatrician how to dress your baby for sleep and how warm the room should be.

The feeling behind a tradition is almost always worth keeping, even when the rule itself changes. Your grandmother wanted you warm, fed and protected. That part was never wrong.

What got lost

When I think about what was lost on the way from there to here, it is not the soup, and it is not the forty days on the calendar.

It is the people. The resguardo worked because somebody showed up and stayed.

That is the part I try to bring back in my work, in a way that makes sense in a new place. Someone in the house whose attention is on the mother, even for a few hours.

Not a replacement for your mother or your aunt, because nobody is. Just a person who remembers that those forty days were always meant for you.

And if you are here, far from the people who would have made you canja, I hope you let someone make it anyway. A friend, a neighbor, your partner. The recipe was never the point.