As a new mom, I did not expect that I would have a hard time holding space for both me and my newborn baby. When my son was a newborn, those early days and nights were filled with crying that I couldn't always soothe, little to no sleep, and the constant feeling that I was failing at something I was supposed to know how to do naturally. I was exhausted in a way I had never experienced before.
But the hardest part wasn't just the sleep deprivation. It was what was happening inside my own mind. I experienced postpartum depression, postpartum anxiety, and postpartum psychosis. There were moments when I didn't recognize myself. My thoughts became frightening. My anxiety was relentless. I was trying to take care of a newborn while also trying to convince myself that I was going to be okay. I was in pure survival mode, and I barely had the bandwidth to be the mom I thought I was going to be, let alone the capability of taking care of myself, going for my next career move and reclaiming my identity.
During all of that, I was asking God for guidance. I was asking him, who am I now? What is my purpose? I wanted to have an identity outside of being someone's mom. But there were days when getting through the day was the accomplishment.
Motherhood forced me to redefine what goals, productivity and presence meant. Before having a child, I could measure progress by how much I accomplished. Now, progress can look completely different, like the baby sleeping through the night, a homemade dinner, or the baby letting out a good burp.
I have learned to accept that some days may not look the way I planned. There are interruptions. There are sick days. There are nights when my child doesn't sleep. There are days when my brain is foggy and my patience is thin. There are also moments of incredible clarity when I realize exactly why I'm doing it and that God entrusted me to do it.
My ambition didn't disappear, it was reframed. It became less about proving that I could accomplish everything and more about creating a life that feels meaningful to me and my family.
I am still building my new life. I'm still figuring it out. Sometimes ambition is rebuilding yourself after a season that nearly broke you. Sometimes it is asking for help. Sometimes it is choosing yourself without choosing against your child.
And sometimes, it is accepting that the woman I was before motherhood is no longer here, because motherhood completely rewired me. I learned that I never needed to bounce back, but I need to ease into fully embracing who I am now and who I am about to become.
I give myself all the love and grace I deserve and need. Not just for me, but for my family. I wouldn't be here without their support. They carried me through the darkest moments. Because of them, I am able to enjoy motherhood now and I'm glad that my son gets this stronger version of me.
Angelica Eagle wrote this essay for the September 2026 issue of Mothered Magazine.
