I went into pregnancy with the idea that nothing would change. I’d just add a baby into my normal life and work.
I’d love to tell you a little about my story.
- I am a life coach and medical researcher.
- I have a PhD in human behaviour and have been published in more than 20 scientific journals.
- Weirdly, I have 2 uteruses… I know, right?
- ‘Seeing people’ and their needs is my superpower.
- I massively underestimated how much my identity would change through pregnancy and motherhood
- It’s my goal to honestly and kindly support you to move through this pregnancy and motherhood transition with your sanity and identity intact.
I spent my 20s doing what I needed to have the career I’d worked for. Moved across the world. Worked extra hours now and again. Made sacrifices here and there.
Certainly no part-time work, or days off. Work would still be an important part of my life. Eh, no. My 2 uteruses had something to say on that.
My expectation of a ‘normal’ pregnancy was met with the reality of frequent hospital visits, scans every few weeks and scare-stories of how my baby might be born before 24 weeks.
Every time I went to hospital, I was reminded of these risks by a new doctor. It was terrifying.
At around 16-20 weeks, one doctor said, “When you get to 28 weeks, you can breathe out a little, 30 weeks a little more, and 32 you can probably breathe normally.” Right… ok, no breathing for a while then. It changed everything.
Work became second fiddle. Getting my baby to term became first.
I struggled on through work, leaving a couple of times per week for appointments until a kind person in Human Resources told me I could reduce my work days due to my high risk pregnancy. I felt instant relief.
You mean, I don’t have to do it all and pretend like nothing has changed? I can accept help?
After a bit of soul-searching, I took steps to reduce to 3 days per week and finish work at 32 weeks.
But who was I without full-time work? Reducing my workdays really challenged my identity and beliefs.
I learnt that when you are growing a human, it’s ok to put yourself and your baby before work.
Fast forward several weeks and my gorgeous boy arrived. I had no clue at the time but I’d really birthed more than a baby:
I’d birthed a mother.
I realised that to survive, I needed support. I leaned on my family, midwife, husband and best friend. I wrote about my experiences. I got coaching from two amazing coaches. I asked for help for everything from bringing me iPhone chargers to TV remotes to food. But it was hard. I sometimes longed for my old life. I didn’t know how to function on the amount of sleep I was getting, or how to self-care with in only 5 minutes. I had to re-learn how to look after myself. I had to learn to like myself as a mum. In that first year, my little person challenged me more than I ever knew I could be challenged.
He highlighted how much of life was governed by fear.
I couldn’t hide all of my people pleasing, self-doubting tendencies when he had made me feel more joy and love than I had ever known.
It has become crystal clear that this is my work: to honestly and kindly share my knowledge, skills and experiences with passionate career women transitioning to motherhood. You are not alone. You are not just a mum. I would absolutely love to work with you.
