Getting My Spark Back

Getting back to me after losing myself in work and motherhood.

It started with losing myself to work. The stress was all-consuming, but I still had a sense of self.

Then I became a mom.

Those first few weeks of motherhood were an adjustment, but that newborn haze is was pure magic. I just wanted to take her in. Of course I wasn’t going to yoga, out to dinner, or sitting at my desk.

Maybe one month into motherhood, I was holding our baby girl while my husband worked. The fog was starting to lift, and I found myself craving a little bit of normalcy. I asked him if he had time to go to lunch.

He needed to work. I burst into tears.

He took me to lunch that day, but we all know it wasn’t about lunch. I didn’t recognize anything anymore. I was lonely.

Aside from the obvious physical changes that came with carrying an additional 60 pounds and going from a D to a G cup, I was now everything to this little person, and a complete stranger to myself.

I didn’t hire any sort of help until I went back to work which, in hindsight, was a mistake. It seems to clear that I was suffering from PPA, but I brushed it off to hormones, which can be a cover for anxiety or depression. I wish I had realized that my intrusive thoughts weren’t normal.

If you’re wondering whether you need help, you probably do, and that’s ok. Hire the help. See the doctor. Talk to someone.

One year into motherhood and long before I was ready, I started thinking about a second baby. I was 36 and “running out of time” so we had to start trying. If all roads would have gone to our girl, I would have waited one more year. I needed more time.

We had a wonderful nanny. This time was going to be different.

But then, a global pandemic.
We had our nanny stop coming to keep our family (and her) safe. No childcare.
And then, a cancer diagnosis.
Six weeks later, our baby girl arrived.
We spent the first 10 months at home, with regular outings to the pediatric oncology floor.

There wasn’t time to grieve or process anything. My girls needed me, and spark continued to fade, replaced by a crippling anxiety, lost friends, and the stress of selling my half of my old company.

Nothing can prepare you for giving your child, your baby, chemotherapy. She took oral chemo at home for hundreds and hundreds of days (almost 800 to be exact), and I was understandably not ok. I focused on getting her through it. I fixated on the best methods to give a toddler chemo and steroids.

The spark continued to fade.

I couldn’t be a good friend during that time, and lost a core group of close friends. I wasn’t really close with one of the three, but lived next-door, and we saw her a lot. I was close with the other two though, and especially close with one. Losing her felt like a death loss. There wasn’t any drama or a falling out. They were just…gone.

Looking back, I can see how it would be hard to sit by, waiting for your friend to come back to life after almost 800 days. Most of my friends stuck by me, and I can’t tell you what that means to me, but losing that one friend, and the group we socialized with most, hit hard.

Some friendships won’t survive the hardest years of your life. Losing one of those friends was one of the hardest losses I’ve ever gone through, and as normal as it is, it felt incredibly lonely.

Selling my company was a step in the right direction. I was no longer chained to a computer and slack. It took years to unlearn the mentality of say yes to everything, focus on numbers, and do more, more, more. I believe in flex hours for everyone. Flexibility is a form of freedom and freedom, for me, is very much associated with my spark. A rigid schedule is my own little version of hell. There isn’t anyone pressuring me to make a partnership work, or to shorten my vacation (or not take one at all).

Two years later, my girl rang the bell and I went back for one more baby. My heart needed him, but as anyone with three kids knows that three kids is a lot.

Was I ready? No. But I had a plan. Our old nanny was able to come three days a week. I love her so, so much (we are still friends) and she brought so much joy into our home. I hired a night nurse to come 3-4 nights a week (this varied week-to-week) and we had the best experience. Our au pair, Estelle, arrived three months after Jack was born, right after our night nurse stopped coming.

It also helped that our very easy baby only wanted me, and was so calm when he was with me. And an easy baby seemed a million times easier than chasing after a 3 and 5 year-old. I got to do all the things with him that I never got to do with my girls. We went to lunch, ran errands, and lived normally together. That might sound insignificant, but my first was so fussy and I was anxious, so I was terrified to take her anywhere, and my second was really easy but we couldn’t leave the house (covid and cancer). So I really did need this. My spark started to come back a little after he arrived.

I scheduled a consultation for a breast reduction and lift just two months after my son was born, and had surgery 4 months later. You can read more about that here. I saw a doctor, went on medication, and started to feel more comfortable and confident in my body. Getting dressed was easier. Feeling disconnected from your body makes it so much harder to feel like yourself. It’s ok to ask for help.

We moved to a new town, and it took time to grow close friendships nearby. Some of my closest friends are 40 minutes away, and others are scattered across the country. I talk to a few of them weekly (some a few times a week) but really missed having friends to get together with. It took a few years, but I started to find my (local) people. They made this town feel like home.

My friendships have grown, and I’ve started to really figure out who my people are. I also found a new local group of liberal moms who want to make a difference and am excited to get to know them more.

My kids got older, and started to become more independent. The (almost) three year-old is still a lot, but he feels easier. Being able to confidently travel alone with my girls felt huge! My husband and I took our first solo vacation together six years into parenthood, and I took my first girls trip. I can see what our family looks like with three kids now that my son is getting older.

I’m still finding my way, and have noticed some significant shifts over the last few months. I started really paying attention to how ADHD and anxiety play a role in my day-to-day. I really hit a wall a few months ago and had to hit reset. I stopped churning, started focusing on what matters, and I feel like a different person. This has reduced my anxiety, which is a departure from the last 20 years of my life, but I feel lighter.

Doing the things that feel important and meaningful make me feel so good. For me, that’s connecting other women, helping them feel less alone, having those real, deep 1:1 conversations, time with my family, time with friends, getting involved politically and doing something to make a difference.

I didn’t become who I used to be again. After having kids, there isn’t (or wasn’t for me) a return to who I used to be. She’s gone. I am a new version of myself, and this may not make any sense, but I actually love the version of myself that I met after my daughter went through cancer treatment. I hate what it took to become her, but this version shaped by loss, survival, and experiences knows what matters. She sees joy in the little things. She knows to book the Disneyland trip. She speaks up, knows who is worthy of her time, and sets beautiful boundaries.

Your spark won’t come back all at once. It returns as you grow, and as you find your way. And for me, when I slowed down enough to notice what matters.