For new mothers in Seoul: 3 weeks of pampering and sleeping in a Joriwon

Four mothers sat quietly in the nursing room around midnight, breastfeeding their newborn babies. When a mother fell asleep with heavy eyelids after giving birth less than two weeks earlier, a nurse came in and whisked her baby away. The exhausted new mother returned to her private room to sleep.

Sleep is just one of the luxury amenities offered by South Korea's postpartum care centers.

The country may have the lowest birth rate in the world, but it is also home to perhaps the best postpartum care. In centers like St. Park, a small postpartum center or joriwon, in Seoul, new mothers are pampered for a few weeks after giving birth and treated to hotel-like accommodations.

Fresh meals are delivered three times a day and there are facials, massages and childcare classes. Nurses watch over the babies 24 hours a day.

New mothers are only called from their rooms when it is time to breastfeed in the communal nursing room, where they are monitored by the nurses. Women who choose not to breastfeed can spend their time healing. (The babies are kept in the nursery all day, although mothers can request that their newborns be sent to their room at any time.)

Staying in a joriwon can cost a few thousand euros tens of thousands of dollars, depending on the length of stay, which is often 21 days, the amount of time a woman's body needs to heal after childbirth, according to Korean custom. But the centers weren't always so luxurious, said Soohyun Sarah Kim, 46, the owner of St. Park.

“When I had my first child, I had nowhere to go,” she said. “Normally in Korea, the grandmother would have to take care of the new baby, but my mother didn't have the skills, so we decided to go to a joriwon.”

In 2007, when Ms. Kim was pregnant with her first child, joriwons were not yet popular. The joriwon she toured was in an office building. The elevator was shared by employees returning from daily smoke breaks. The room was small and uncomfortable. “At that time, there was no nurse to care for the baby,” Ms. Kim said.

She opened St. Park in 2008 with the mission to provide exceptional care to new mothers in a Bali-inspired retreat. It became one of the first high-end joriwons in Seoul. “It's kind of like we're the transition between the hospital and home,” Ms. Kim said. “We don't want mothers to get into trouble at home, that is our approach.”

In the hallways of St. Park, workers quietly collect dirty laundry and deliver food. including the necessary miyeok gukor seaweed soup, a Korean main dish after birth.

In the lactation room, beads of sweat run down the forehead of a lactation consultant who – not always carefully – squeezes drops of breast milk from the nipples to promote production. A limber Pilates instructor offers tips on body alignment and recovery during rooftop classes.

Although Ms. Kim recommends her guests stay for 21 days, she has largely abandoned folk customs that were still fashionable when she had her first child, such as making sure a new mother's hands are never placed in cold water and avoiding air conditioning, even in summer.

“We have air conditioning,” she said.

The new crop of joriwon also hired nurses, nutritionists, and pediatricians, and as the overall quality of care at the centers improved, more mothers, especially new mothers, booked stays.

Now eight in ten South Korean mothers go to a joriwon after giving birth, and private centers like St. Park are known among Korean women as one of the best parts of childbirth recovery. Pregnant women are clamoring for access to the joriwon of their choice, and the competition has become so fierce that some mothers are submitting booking requests as soon as they see the double lines on their pregnancy test.

Chun Hye-rim, who is expecting her first child in March, said her husband had to use two phones to make a reservation at Heritage Cheongdam, one of the best joriwons in Seoul. Trinity Yongsan, another sought-after center, placed her on the waiting list. “They said, 'Did you call now?'” Ms. Chun said. She was only seven weeks pregnant at the time.

Part of the appeal of booking a joriwon is the chance to spend time with other new mothers who have children the same age. Anidar, a joriwon in Seoul that opened in October, says his goal is to help mothers stay connected even after receiving postpartum care. “We bring together mothers with similar interests and personalities,” said Jeong Minyu, CEO of Anidar.

Ms. Chun points out that she chose Heritage because it was recommended to her by friends. “People try to make good friends at joriwon,” she said. “That culture continues throughout the child's life.”

“You actually want your children to get along with people in the same social class,” she added.

The issue of class and cost is very sensitive in South Korea, where inequality is increasing. Two weeks in St. Park – not including massages, facials and hair treatments – costs more than $6,000. Insurance won't cover the costs, but they can be subsidized by the government through a grant designed to encourage more families to have babies.

As pricey as some joriwons can be, their cost is only a fraction of the total cost of raising a child in South Korea, a fact that may help explain the country's birth rate.

“One of the reasons people don't want to give birth is because all the postpartum care here is so great, it only lasts two weeks, and then there's life afterward, which is forever,” Ms. Chun said.

Allison Kang, a Korean American living in Seoul, had her first child in March. She said being in a joriwon helped her recover from her complicated delivery. “I think it works in Korea because there is such an emphasis on recovery, and I really wish there was that same emphasis in the United States, or wherever,” she said.

Some mothers say newborns are too fragile to be left in the care of strangers in the joriwon system. But Ms. Kang said her room was just steps away from her daughter in the nursery and she never felt far away. “It's incredibly important to give ourselves a chance to rest and not feel bad when we need to get better,” she said.

Standing in front of St. Park recently, Ms. Kim, the owner, said that even though her business was profit-oriented, she still thinks “like a mother.”

“Every mother always cries when they check out,” she added.

Jin Yu Young contributed reporting from Seoul.