Becoming a mom changes your world. And not just because you now have a baby to take care of—but because you have to relearn yourself. The old version of you is forever gone, and a new one emerges. One that’s softer in some places, and stronger in others. Someone with a tiny human watching your every move now.
The first time I held Damian, it was magic. I know people say that all the time, but I mean it in the kind of way where it felt like time slowed down. My heart was outside my body, resting in my arms. I remember those first few weeks, sitting and just staring at him—his tiny hands, his perfect little nose. I couldn’t believe he was mine. He felt too perfect for this world.
But then a few days passed.
I was in bed, still in the same sweatshirt from the day before, hair a mess, hormones everywhere. And I just started crying. I didn’t even know why—only that I was happy and sad all at once. I remember thinking, Will I ever feel like me again?
No one really prepares you for that part.
One of the hardest things that first year was realizing how much I had to rely on Aaron for even the smallest things. If I wanted to take a shower, I had to wait until he got home. If I wanted to step outside for air, make a Target run, or do anything just for me—I had to check with him first. It wasn’t his fault; he was showing up the best he could. But it hit me how much my life had shifted. I felt the weight of it in all the little moments. The independence I once had? It wasn’t gone, but it looked completely different now.
Aaron and I had to learn how to work together in a whole new way. We weren’t just partners anymore—we were parents. That meant new expectations, new frustrations, new rhythms. There were moments when we were out of sync, where my hormones were all over the place and he felt helpless. But slowly, through late-night check-ins and small compromises, we found our groove. It wasn’t always pretty, but it was honest. We grew as parents and as people.
Those first few weeks, I was sleep-deprived, holding a baby who refused to be put down—but who I also never wanted to let go. I would Google “baby blues” and “what does postpartum depression feel like” at 3 a.m. wondering if what I was feeling was normal.
And yeah, all those TikTok advice videos I watched, none of it could have prepared me for how motherhood rearranges your brain, your body, and your heart. It cracked me open in ways I didn’t expect. It humbled me. It softened me.
Early on, while I was still pregnant, I made myself a promise: I wouldn’t carry guilt for taking care of myself. Because what good is a burnt-out mom? After birth, I started small—an everything shower when I had the chance, a face mask during a nap instead of doing dishes. I didn’t call it self-care back then. I just called it surviving. But eventually, those small moments became sacred. They became mine.
Some days, that meant meeting a friend for coffee and not talking about babies. On other days, it was sitting in silence for ten minutes just to breathe after I had put Damian to sleep. I needed those moments to feel like me again—not before baby me, but this new version I was still figuring out.
I never put Damian on a strict routine. I kind of let him set the rhythm, and I followed. Some nights he went down at 9 pm Others, we were up past midnight. But I was lucky—he slept when I slept, so we found our rhythm early. Still, I let go of the idea that I had to control every moment. Babies don’t follow schedules during those first months.
I used to think motherhood meant losing yourself. But now I know: it doesn’t erase you—it reshapes you.
I’m still me. Just… mom-ified.
Sure, I can’t make every brunch invite. I have to schedule my Pilates classes and sometimes hit pause on my Peloton rides when Damian starts crying. But I move my body when I can. I journal. I breathe. And somehow, I find pieces of myself again—stronger, more grounded than before.
Becoming a mom also gave me the motivation to finally go back to school. I had been thinking of going back but never actually enrolled. I’m going back to school next semester to pursue passions I’ve carried in my heart for a long time. Because yes, I’m a mom—but I’m also a woman with dreams that haven’t disappeared. They’ve just grown a little deeper.
And I’m finally ready to chase them—with my baby boy watching me every step of the way.