My Unexpected Journey Into Motherhood
I am now 30 weeks pregnant with our baby boy who is due to be born this summer. And with him entering this world, I will become a mother again. “Mother” has been an interesting role for me to assume. I unexpectedly became pregnant for the first time just weeks before my 22nd birthday, and I say “unexpectedly” because I had been on a birth control pill for the four years leading up to my pregnancy. “Mother” was an aspect of my identity that I didn’t plan to take on until much later in life (30 at the earliest.) I had my life mapped out based on how things were “supposed to be,” as I imagine many of us do. Go to a good college, meet a partner, build a successful career, then entertain the thought of having kids once I’m fully settled.
However, I soon learned after enrolling in college, that my path wouldn’t be so crystal clear after all. I couldn’t decide what to study, changing from journalism, to marketing, to psychology, to international politics and so on (a good glimpse into what the following years of my life would also look like.) Then eventually, on a whim, I decided to co-found my first tech start-up with zero previous experience or knowledge on what it means to have a business, and much less a tech start-up. After being accepted into an international incubator program in Paris, and spending all waking hours on the start-up, I decided to leave university to assume a full-time role at the business. It’s becoming pretty evident now that the initial path society had laid out for me wasn’t exactly going according to plan. At that point, I began to realize that I was going to have to do things “my way” in order for me to be truly happy and fulfilled.
Dropping out of school added a lot of pressure to me mentally. Between letting other people’s opinions, as well as my own personal beliefs, get the best of me, I spiraled into 12-14 hour days, giving the start-up every ounce of energy I had as “failure” was not an option. I had something to prove: to myself, to my parents, and apparently to society as well.
Fast forward three years and my boyfriend, Leo, and I decided it was time to move from Paris back to my hometown of Austin. We thought it would be the perfect place to continue to work on the start-up, and also would be a new experience for us as a couple, and especially for Leo, who had lived in Paris his entire life. The only caveat was that we had to be married within 90 days of entering the US. And naively, we thought this would be the most stressful part of the move.
Two weeks after landing in Austin, ready to start to a fresh chapter together, I found out I was pregnant. So, there we were. Now, not only was I a college drop out with no stable career, but also pregnant at 21. Leo, on the other hand, could not legally work in the US (or leave the country) due to his immigration status. We felt stuck and I literally thought my life was over.
But isn’t that kind of what society tells us? That once we have kids our personal and professional lives are over? That we now live solely for our children? No wonder that was the first thought that popped into my head. In that moment I felt completely doomed and also ashamed. I remember thinking “why is this happening to me?” but I also remember thinking “this is what I want.” Maybe not at that precise moment in life, but it was something I did want. I also knew deeply that I could do it; that we could do it. That I had the ability to be a good, loving mother and was (very) lucky to have resources and family to support us, whatever the path ahead looked like.
Once I recovered from the initial shock of the pregnancy news, I fell into a pattern I’d become all too familiar with: overcompensation and “hustle” because, “failure” was not an option. Now I had even MORE to prove. I not only had to ensure the start-up would still be a success, but I also had to be the best mother possible. So, during that pregnancy I did all the things. Continued to meet with investors, while simultaneously hiding my growing belly. Attend weekly prenatal yoga classes, chiropractor appointments, and doula meetings. And quite honestly, it’s taken years to even recognize how exhausting that was; how exhausting it is to be constantly overdoing, achieving, and proving yourself.
Following giving birth to our daughter, I continued to try to do it all, and do it all myself. I could recognize the patterns within myself, but I persisted acting in the same way; going on to co-found another start-up, in search for massive “success,” doing everything in my power to be the “best mom,” such as extending my breastfeeding journey for nearly three years. Then one day I jumped off the hamster wheel and asked myself “why?” Why am I pursuing the things I pursue? Why do I constantly feel this need to overachieve? Who am I trying to prove myself to?
More than anything, this story is one of redefining and letting go of one’s self. Of who we thought we’d be. Of the path we thought we’d walk. Of the accomplishments we’d thought we achieve. And in a way, it’s also about grieving those identities, possibilities, and ideas we each have about ourselves and our lives. Becoming a mother wasn’t something I planned for, but it was what I needed. As with any major life change, there often comes major personal growth, that is, if we can rise to the occasion. Now, over four years after that fateful pregnancy test, I see “why.” I see exactly why it happened to me; happened to us. It was such a pivotal, necessary, and most beautiful part of my path and who I now identify as: a mother (but, not only.) And now, a mother again.
