During my postpartum journey, I experienced what felt like the perfect storm. I was recovering from my C-section, sleep-deprived, dehydrated, trying to breastfeed our daughter, managing my brick-and-mortar business from afar, and keeping house amid an emergency bathroom renovation.

Somehow, finding the time and energy to eat, sleep, and shower seems impossible. In a few weeks' time, the lack of sleep, nutrition, mental and emotional exhaustion, and doctors' appointments begin to take a toll. Your ability to make rational decisions is hindered, and your reaction time is slow. Over the last nine months, your brain has been rewiring itself for motherhood, making you more primal and efficient, but right now, in combination with the post-birth hormone crash, it feels like a whirlwind of emotions and borderline hysteria. You feel like you need help, but your baby needs you more. The world starts to feel like it's caving in. You go from being your own person to being invisible.

You Are Not Broken—You Are Becoming

Postpartum isn’t a return. It’s a reckoning. A reformation.
We’re told we’ll bounce back—back to our bodies, our energy, our “old selves.”
But nothing about motherhood is about going back. It’s a slow, quiet unfolding into someone new.

You don’t need to love every moment. You don’t need to snap back into who you were.
You are allowed to feel raw. You are allowed to grieve while you love.
You are allowed to need care even as you give it constantly.

In the blur of those early days, I thought I was unraveling. But now I see—I was becoming someone new.

Real Self-Compassion Looks Like...

Not curated routines or bouncing back. Not checking every box.

It looks like:

• Letting your healing be nonlinear
• Letting the house be messy
• Letting your emotions come and go without guilt
• Letting yourself feel

It’s whispering “I’m doing the best I can” at 4am while swaddling your newborn on the bathroom floor.
It’s crying while feeding your baby and calling that connection.
It’s naming the grief without letting it define you.

You're not a bad person for thinking it's hard. It is extremely hard. But you know what? You can do this! You’ve already made it this far. That little baby is the most magical thing that has ever happened to you. I bet you didn’t know your heart could live outside of your body, did you? I bet you didn’t know you were so strong. I bet you didn’t know you could love so fiercely. You are already doing an amazing job. Don't let the intrusive thoughts tell you otherwise.

This is the time to give yourself some grace, mama. This is where you set new boundaries for yourself. Forget the rest of the world and their timelines and expectations. Even if that means the life you had before this baby is not the same one you return to when you come back from your maternity leave, it's okay. It's okay if it takes an entire year for you to feel like yourself again. Take one day at a time. Say yes to help. Don't be afraid to ask for it. You are not a burden. Take care of yourself now—not just for them, but because you matter too.

You Don’t Need to Go Back—You Get to Go Forward

That woman on the bathroom floor? She was being remade.
And so are you.

You don’t need to return to the person you were. She served her purpose. She got you here. But now… there’s space to become someone even more rooted. Even more alive. Even more real.

Mini Prompt for Reflection:

What would it look like to stop measuring your worth by what gets done—and start honoring what you’re holding?