Episode 19: The Postpartum Entrepreneur: You're Not Falling Behind (A Love Letter to Ambitious New Moms)

Hey friend. So today is a little bit different. This episode is completely raw and real as I just sit here on my couch at 5:30 in the morning, before the rest of the world — the rest of my house — wakes up. And I've been thinking about this for, well, three weeks or so, since we had our second son, Louis, on March 18th.

As a side note, I am super excited to eventually have a podcast episode all about my birth story, because it is a crazy one. But in the meantime, I wanted to come back to the podcast and start this new season of life with basically a love letter to all the other ambitious women out there who also have new babies — because this is such a special season, but it can bring up so many different feelings and emotions and desires and conflicts and all of the things. And I totally get it, and I'm right there with you again — although the second time around looks a little different. I have a little bit more perspective this time, and I want to share some of that perspective.

So from one ambitious mom with a new baby to another, here is my love letter to you.

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Hey mama. I see you. Like, I really truly see you. Because you're probably listening to this during a pumping session, or while you're bouncing a new baby who refuses to be put down or stay sleeping when you are actually sitting down for once. Or maybe you just snuck in your earbud during the one quiet moment you finally have during the day.

And if that is you — if you're listening to a business and mindset podcast while keeping a tiny human alive — I want you to know that that tells me everything I need to know about who you are. Because I am the same. You are someone who has a fire in her. This drive, this vision for something bigger. And that fire doesn't go out just because you had a baby. It doesn't dim or disappear. It just, for this temporary season, gets redirected.

And I'm right there alongside you — right in the middle of it too, pun intended. The overnight feeds, the pumping every three hours, the beautiful, exhausting, overwhelming, miraculous blur that is early postpartum — that is my whole life right now. And we have a two-and-a-half-year-old, and I'm building a business, and some days I feel like I'm doing it all terribly. So I know you've probably been feeling that way too.

Like you're not doing enough, and not moving fast enough, and not getting back to yourself quickly enough.

And I just want to say: you are so not behind.

I'll say that again, because sometimes we just need to hear things more than once. You're not behind. There's no timeline that you're failing to meet — only the self-imposed one. There's no version of this season where you're supposed to have it all figured out already. We're all just figuring it out day by day.

You just grew a human being inside your body for nine months, and then you brought them into the world. And however that happened for you — whether it was smooth sailing, or really challenging, or somewhere in between — it was, no matter what, the most extraordinary thing your body has ever done. And now you're keeping that human alive. You're their entire world. You're their safe place, their comfort, their constant.

You are, truly, as their mother and the person who carried them for all of that time, pretty much all they know. Your voice, your scent, your heartbeat — you're it. When they cry, they're crying for you. They're crying for the familiarity of mom. When they settle, it's because of you. When they fall asleep on your chest, that rise and fall of your breathing — the one they memorized from within you — you're their home. Literally.

I'm getting emotional thinking about that.

That's not nothing. That is absolutely everything.

And about that baby on your chest — there will come a day, sooner than you think, I promise you that, when they won't fit on your chest the way that they do right now. The way they curl up like they're still trying to be inside you, still in that fetal position. The way their little finger wraps around yours. The way their breath slows when they finally, finally fall asleep and the whole room gets quiet, and just for a moment, everything slows back down, and you have this little moment of peace and bliss.

And I know — you've heard "enjoy every moment" so many times that it probably makes you want to scream, and I get it. I totally get it. Because not every moment is actually enjoyable. And even though some moments are really, really, really hard and you're touched out and exhausted and you just desperately want your body back — and that's valid, that's real — I'm not here to tell you to enjoy the hard moments.

But I am here to say that when the good ones come — when the baby falls asleep on you and there's laundry to fold and emails to send and a to-do list that's been growing every day — I just want you to at least consider, just for a moment, leaving it. Just leave it alone. And sit with the weight of your baby on your chest instead of the weight of all that other stuff — the metaphorical weight on your chest.

Because you're going to spend the rest of your life missing the way that [FLAG: possible transcription drop — "you" may be "you could" or similar — check audio] you can hear their little breaths right next to your ear. Their little twitches and grunts and gurgles and all of their little baby sounds. So just wait for them to fall into that deep sleep, and then just be there — not scrolling, not planning, not mentally running through everything you should be doing. Easier said than done, I know. But just be there. This is not wasted time. Just sitting on the couch and letting that baby take their most comfortable nap on you — that is so not wasteful.

Your ambition is not going anywhere. The laundry's not going anywhere. None of it. The drive that you have, the vision, that feeling inside you that knows you're meant for more than motherhood — that you've got something really amazing to offer to the world, and that your story and your gifts and your experience deserve a bigger stage, so to speak — that is not going to expire. It doesn't have a best-if-used-by date. It's not going to disappear if you don't act on it right now, or even just later this week. It's woven into you and who you are, and it's going to be there waiting for you whenever you come back to it.

Your business can wait a couple more weeks. Designing your next offer can wait. The content calendar can wait. Your audience is still going to be there. And the version of you who is a thriving, impactful entrepreneur is still there and coming back — she hasn't left. She's just holding a baby right now.

And honestly? You're going to be such a better coach, better mentor, and better leader because of this season. Not in spite of it — because of it. The things you're feeling right now — the identity shift, the tension between who you were and who you're becoming, the grief and the joy existing in the same breath — that is your message. The women you're going to help someday are also living in their own version of this moment. And regardless of what you do in the world, this experience as a new mom is going to add a layer of authenticity and relatability — if that's even a real word — that is going to make you even more magnetic to your audience. Because they will feel so validated, and they will resonate with your experience too.

So just give yourself the grace in this season.

There's a season for the planting and the harvesting, a season for action and for rest. And I know — I know — that as ambitious women, we want to be in the harvest season all the time. We want to be producing and creating and building and growing, always. But what I have learned since having our first son almost three years ago — crazy — is that the rest season is not wasted time. It's more like integration time, really, when everything that you have planted gets to rest and take root and get stronger. When your nervous system is recalibrating and your body is healing, it's when you just get to be a mom in the most sacred, simplest sense of the word, without having to be anything else too.

And in the grand timeline of your life, your career, and this legacy that you're building — this fourth trimester, this 12 weeks of newborn land, is nothing. It's just a little blip. It's pretty much just a little comma in a very long, very beautiful sentence. So just know that you are not throwing away your future by choosing to be present in these 12 weeks.

Give yourself permission to not have it all figured out. To let some things be messy and unfinished and on hold. And give yourself permission to rest when you can — to ask for help, for support. To let your partner, or your mom, or whoever is in your village, carry some of this weight so that you can just be with your baby. Your village including — maybe you have a team that works in your business, or maybe just for the moment you hire somebody temporarily to help out with some things — so that you can just be in it. Be in motherhood. Just enjoy these fleeting moments.

And when the time comes, you'll know. There will be a moment when a little pocket of time opens up, and your energy shows up to meet it. And those are the moments where you can say, "All right — this moment, right now. Let's go." And when those moments come — those little brief pockets, maybe it's just half an hour when the baby is sleeping and the house is moderately peaceful and you just have this calling to do something that is quote-unquote productive — I want you to take those moments. Not because you have to, or because you feel like you're behind, but because it feels good and aligned, like coming home to yourself. Those pockets of productivity are going to feel so life-giving, almost like remembering who you are. And you deserve to have that feeling too. Just don't necessarily rush to get there.

Because this thing that you're in right now — this amazing, heart-cracking-open-with-love type of season — will never be here again. Not like this, not with this baby at this age, at this exact moment in time. And I can promise you this without a doubt: you will not look back and wish you had posted more on Instagram right now. You're not going to regret waiting another week to launch your new offer. You will not lie awake thinking, "I really should have sent more emails during maternity leave."

But you might — if you let the hustle pull you away too soon — wish you had stayed a little longer with that baby. Held on a little tighter. And just let yourself be in it, without rushing to get out.

So — not that you need my permission, but this is your permission slip, from one ambitious mama to another. You are doing plenty. You are being enough. The business is all going to come. The audience is going to come, the clients will be there, and the life you're building is still on its way.

Right now, the only thing you need to do is exactly what you're already doing — keeping that little one alive, keeping yourself sane, and finding grace for yourself on the days when, quite frankly, both of those things feel damn near impossible.

You've got this. Not because you have to — because you already are.

All my love. I'll see you here again soon. Take care, be present, enjoy these little babies, and just know that you are doing exactly what you're meant to be doing right now. There is nothing more important than the work of being a mother.

We'll see you soon.

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EDITOR'S NOTE — FLAG TO REVIEW:
The sentence "you're going to spend the rest of your life missing the way that you can hear their little breaths" contains a word "you" before "can hear" that reads oddly mid-sentence. It may be a dropped word or a mid-thought restart. Worth a quick listen to the audio to confirm before publishing.