Healing, Hormones, and Holding On: The Postpartum Experience

We don’t talk enough about the inner struggles that come with being a new mother. Society often presents a glowing image of new motherhood—radiant skin, joyful smiles, and the miracle of birth. But behind that public portrait, the reality can be far more complex and dramatic than just diapers and sleepless nights. That first moment, holding your newborn in your arms, is overwhelming in the most profound way. It fills every part of your being with wonder, to see your own features echoed in a tiny face—your “mini-me”—is nothing short of astonishing. In that moment, you realize your life has been extended for another hundred years.

As a Yakutian mother, I could never have imagined creating a human so extraordinary—inside and out—a unique blend cultures, forming something entirely new and beautiful.

And yet, within this whirlwind of love and awe, there is something dark pulling at you—something unknown and unsettling. A hidden part of your identity begins to panic, afraid of losing who you once were. Motherhood demands sacrifice and devotion to becoming something entirely new, and that internal shift can feel like a quiet crisis. As your baby grows beside you, so does that shadow within, a parallel journey of transformation.

There are days of singing from pure joy, and nights spent crying from exhaustion and loneliness. Every mother carries her own postpartum story—of being left alone to wrestle with her demons. Hormonal imbalances and emotional disarray can be overwhelming, and in those moments, what matters most is having someone who truly listens—who sees and feels you without judgment.

I am deeply grateful for my journey. It taught me to tune into my body, to ride the emotional waves, and, above all, to choose what’s best for my well-being — to rest when needed, create space for myself, and ask for help without hesitation.

When I look into my children’s eyes, I see the product of my imagination, my pain, my joy, and the purest love a human can feel. They carry pieces of my past and hints of my dreams. They are the mirror that reflects who I am at my core, and my potential. Motherhood isn’t just a journey of love— it’s also one of unraveling/rebuilding and in that space of change, it’s okay to feel lost.

This letter is for the mother who is in the thick of it right now—for the one silently battling emotional swings, exhaustion, and the haunting feeling. You are doing sacred work, even in the quiet moments that no one sees.

You are a goddess in transformation. A blessing in motion. And you are never alone.

Postpartum, shifting to parenthood

Dancing on the edge of Perfection