How Becoming a Mother Changed My Career
When I was eight months pregnant, a family friend visited our house for a dinner party. My husband and everyone else was sipping on wine, and I was nursing sparkling water, attempting to feel part of the fun while battling heartburn and indigestion. She sat down next to me and smiled, reached over, rubbed my belly, and asked how I was feeling.
I went through my typical response throughout my pregnancy: tired but excited, nervous but ready — somehow trying to articulate my conflicted and complicated host of emotions. I told her I could hardly believe I’d be going on maternity leave soon and how quickly my daughter would arrive.
“I bet when that baby comes, you will never want to go back to work,” she smiled.
As a wonderful mother of three, I understood the sentiment, but I didn’t relate. My career has always been my source of energy, my driving force to achieve, giving me passion and purpose. I always considered myself one of the lucky ones who woke up each day, eager to sit at my desk, open my email, a blank Google Doc — and see what was in store for me.
I found so much of my identity through my job — and I was more anxious about taking a break from it than wondering how I would feel when I returned.
I brushed off the comment — as I did about most commentary during my pregnancy — but I thought about it. Specifically, I stewed over it while sitting on our screened-in porch the first week of March, feeling lost, helpless — and huge.
At the suggestion of my mom friends, I decided to begin my maternity leave 15 days before my due date. They all said I’d feel tired and want time to rest and nest before bringing home my newborn. And while I had zero reason to expect this, I had a gut feeling I would deliver early, like my mom, who had me at 37 weeks.
But a few days into my leave, with no contraction in sight, I found myself crumbling.
Even though I left meticulous notes for my fill-in freelancer, I fretted over my business. Even though my clients were seemingly happy, I wondered if they would churn in my absence. Even though my editors were thrilled for my growing family, I worried if they’d have work for me when I was ready for assignments again.
More than anything, the waiting period was seriously impacting my mental health. There’s a German word for this tantalizing in-between stage—overflowing with the unknown and anticipation: Zwischen.
With nothing to do all day but watch Netflix, fold baby clothes and try anything to kickstart labor (eating dates, bouncing on a ball, yoga positions, walking on a curb, you name it) — I was listless and impatient.
I cried constantly; I angrily took my 38 and 39th-week photos, my husband trying to make me smile while I mentally cursed him for not being able to carry our child.
I was uncomfortable and felt caught entirely between two chapters in my life. I was trapped in The Time of Zwischen, and I couldn’t turn the page.
I wasn’t quite yet a mom, but I was not working.
If I didn’t have a baby to take care of and I didn’t have any work to complete — who was I? What was I doing?
In a true serendipitous happy beginning, my daughter Josefine arrived in the early morning of March 15, 2022 — her due date. (Is there anything more appropriate for a journalist-entrepreneur mom than a highly punctual child?)
Though that family friend wasn’t exactly right — I did want to return to work — motherhood changed everything about my career in ways that I could have never predicted or imagined.
In honor of my second Mother’s Day — and the first one where I’m well-rested — here’s how:
1. My desire to work grew—but changed.
What I’ve realized about those weeks leading up to JoJo’s birth is that I paused for the first time in my adult life. And what I fought tooth and nail throughout my postpartum period and maternity leave was the fine art of slowing down.
It didn’t come naturally to me, and it didn’t feel good.
I felt uneasy, forced to sit still for hours beyond end, waiting for labor to begin. And then, when Josefine was here, I was stationary again — healing from birth, figuring out how to feed a baby and surviving on little sleep.
The lack of movement and energy, the stammering, deafening halt from the busy routine I was used to, was so jarring it knocked me off my feet.
My agency and my journalism success were all built on hustling. Even when I wasn’t working, I was thinking about work, strategizing work and often, thinking two steps ahead. I loved it, and it always came innately to me, so I felt I could do more.
I had the same drive about motherhood.
I had always dreamed of being a mom: I had written letters to my future children and made 'parenting' a non-negotiable when I was dating. I had expected to savor and indulge in those newborn days, cradling my brand-new infant and listening to her chest rise and fall. Smelling her sweet little head. And while, sure, I had many memorable moments, I mostly felt out of my element.
Unlike my career, which came naturally to me… this didn’t.
When my husband returned to work at six weeks, I was left to care for Jo on my own. This coincided with a challenging developmental leap where she fought naps, was incessantly fussy, and needed to be held nearly 24/7.
The rocker wouldn’t do, the bouncer wasn’t a hit; it was mommy or bust.
After ten days of this, I developed claustrophobia from losing my independence as I knew it. I wanted to spend time with this little gal… but also needed some time alone.
We eventually decided to hire a college student for the summer to hang out with Josefine for three hours a day. This allowed me time to exercise, breathe, shower — and spend an hour or so writing/working. Considering I receive upwards of 300 emails a day, it also gave me time to gradually weed through emails before I ‘officially’ returned to work full-time again.
I never doubted I wanted to continue my career—but those first few months solidified it. I was meant to be a mom. But also meant to be an entrepreneur. I loved my baby—and I loved (and missed!) my work. Two things can — and are — often true in motherhood.
2. My work had to change to meet my new priorities.
Though we had a sitter for a few weeks, once I was fully back at work, Josefine was just turning 4.5 months. She was miraculously sleeping through the night, smiling constantly, and growing into a funny, wonderful, tiny human.
Moms warned me of the ongoing tug-a-war that working and parenting brings. And I didn’t fully understand it until I was back at my desk, Josefine was at her nanny, and I had time to work. I had expected to feel energized and free, and in some ways I did… but in others, I couldn’t help but feel a nagging, painful longing.
What surprised me more than anything else… I missed her.
After counting down the days until I was back to the ‘old me’, I was finally here… and yet, I couldn’t help but wonder about Josefine. Right when she was coming alive, I was falling in love with her, becoming better rested and feeling more like me, she was off to someone else’s care.
The timing was confusing, emotionally… and professionally.
I quickly realized that something had to change about the way I was working… because it was no longer working for me.
I pitched dozens of monthly articles to 10 or more magazines and websites for years. And many of those would be accepted. But now, the pitch-and-wait cat-and-mouse game was less appealing. And the idea of writing 40+ articles a month wasn’t as exciting either.
My attention wasn’t focused on finding the newest, greatest, latest, coolest trend, product or destination. I wasn't hopping on a plane every weekend, and I didn't have time to test products.
Maybe more to the point: I no longer wanted to do these things.
Instead, I focused on working as much as I could between 9 a.m. and 4:30 p.m. so I could pick up my daughter and spend time with her. I didn't want to be on my phone when I finally saw her in the afternoon — so I had to do what I could do in the hours I had. This left me with clear working hours, unlike pre-Josefine, when I could work in the early morning, the late evening, or whenever I wanted or needed to. With new restraints, I was encouraged to hone my workload and time management skills.
Much like my experience with journalism, I felt the inspiration —and the need — to change my agency. I knew I was charging way too little and offering far too many services. I knew my expertise (and that of my writers) was fully rooted in the lifestyle space. I knew our agency was lacking data to improve our ROI of clients.
I had grand visions of all I wanted to do — but I also wanted to be realistic about what I could offer.
It took me eight months to redesign our branding, rebuild the website, price our work competitively, and hire the right people to aid our success.
It probably would have been much faster without caring for a baby-turning-into-a-toddler.
But then again, if I didn’t have Josefine, I’m not sure I would have changed a thing.
Though much of freelancing and working for yourself is about riding the inevitable waves that build and crash, becoming a mother made me even more flexible. More resilient.
At first, I struggled to stay on task, constantly worrying about how Josefine was doing. (A piece of my heart will always live, breathe and walk outside of my body, and even now, there isn’t an hour that passes that I don’t wonder what she’s doing and if she’s happy.)
But as I found my groove as a working mom, reduced the amount of content I was producing and focused on streamlining my agency, I discovered a newfound motivation and productivity.
Josefine could wake up tomorrow with yet another fever or sickness, and I’d be left to tag-team the day with my husband, taking turns being on baby duty while also working.
As exhausting as it can be, I’ve found managing a career, a household, a marriage, contractors, employees and my sanity as the ultimate educator.
I’m more patient, I work smarter, I know my strengths and honor them, and I strategize my day to match my creativity and energy level, as well as the demands of my family and myself.
In learning how to tune in to my daughter’s needs, I’ve inadvertently discovered how to listen to my own.
3. My work now has a new purpose that is bigger than anything else.
Instead of having a big birthday bash for my daughter’s first lap around the sun, we decided to take a beach vacation as a family. She wouldn’t remember the day, and my husband and I needed some sunshine.
While lounging on the beach, I received the email that Josefine finally made it off the waitlist for our top pick for daycare. This was after an 18-month wait (yep, I joined six months pregnant!).
I was thrilled… but instantly filled with dread.
I was attached to our nanny share, and I looked forward to the every-hour updates on what Jo was eating, doing, feeling and sleeping. It gave me comfort—and it was the training wheels I needed to ease into work.
But now, she’s with two teachers and eight new friends, and I get a photo a day if I’m lucky. This transition has been more of a transition for me than for her — and over time, it’s taught me how strong I really am. As a mom, as a professional, as a human.
Like all parents, I often wonder if I've made the best decision for her. But I try to remind myself that it's best for me. And if I don't fill my cup, I can't help her cup overflow with the exciting, happy, adventurous and supportive childhood I want to give her.
I now have confidence to say I don’t want to be at home with her full-time, and I enjoy my career.
The accolades, the bylines, and my clients' growth are all important. They bring me happiness and push me to continue, but it isn’t what drives me to succeed anymore.
It’s Josefine.
It's knowing that one day, she’ll ask me what I do for a living. She will wonder what I do when she’s at daycare, preschool, elementary school, and beyond.
It’s a privilege I’ll be able to explain to her the dreams I had when I was five — and how I made them come true with a lot of work, determination, patience, strength and grit.
And perhaps more importantly, after becoming her mother, how I permitted myself to change my ambitions.
How if I had to choose, I’d choose her every damn time, but I’m so lucky that I don’t have to.
How there is no right way to do anything, and what’s most important is honoring her extraordinary gifts, listening to her gut, asking for help and trusting the universe's design.
How I had to learn that yes, I’m a good mom, even if I’m not a stay-at-home mom. Even if I need a break sometimes.
How it took time for me to love being a mother — and then to figure out how to be a working mother.
How I had to believe in my ability to do both.
And to hopefully illustrate that it’s okay if more than one part of her life brings her joy, purpose and meaning.
How my career helped to make me, me — but so did she.
How of all of the titles I have, ‘mom’ will always, always be my favorite one.
…And CEO, a close second.
