It's been a little over two months since I stepped back into the office after my maternity leave. I remember the mix of emotions I felt that first morning - excitement, guilt, exhaustion, hope. Since then, I've been quietly carrying the weight of two worlds; the one at home, where I'm learning to be a mother, and the one at work, where I'm expected to pick up right where I left off.
for weeks, I debated whether to share my experience - wondering if anyone would understand, if it was too personal, or if my words would even matter. But today, the feelings bubbling inside me are too strong to ignore. So, I'm putting them down on paper, not just for me, but for every mother who's walked this road in silence. Because if there's one truth I've come to know deeply, it's this: being a working mom is the hardest job a woman can have - and the most invisible one too.
You never really know how heavy it all feels until you're living it - trying to show up fully at work while still being the mother your little one needs. My daughter is only three months old now, and every morning I leave her, a piece of me breaks a little more.
Each day begins the same way: I kiss her soft cheeks as she sleeps, barely stirring. I lean in and breathe in her scent, trying to bottle it up, hold on for just a bit longer. then I exhale - and with that breath, I let go. But it hurts every time. I walk out of the room and the tears come, like clockwork. I whisper to myself, "Be normal. People do this every day." But still, I sob, and I wonder: when will I stop sobbing? When will this become easier?
The rest of the day feels like walking a tightrope. t work, guilt creeps in for not being with my daughter. At home, I feel the guilt again - this time for not performing at the same level I once did, for not being the person I used to be before motherhood changed everything.
The Shift in Perspective
I've always considered myself a perfectionist - or rather, a recovering one. Before becoming a mom, I had a clear picture of how things should be: every detail in its place, everything running smoothly, just the way I imagined it. If things veered off course, I'd get flustered - and sometimes, I exaggerate on things that don't even matter.
Motherhood changed that.
During my pregnancy, my husband and I were preparing for our princess' arrival with so much passion and care - buying everything she might need, making sure she'd feel safe, comfortable, and deeply loved from the very first day. Every detail felt like an act of love, and every small task came with excitement and anticipation. But the reality of motherhood quickly taught me that while preparation helps, nothing can fully prepare you for the emotional shift that comes after birth.
As a new mom, I quickly realized that perfection is not just unrealistic - it's unattainable. Babies don't follow schedules. Plans fall apart. And the house? Well, it rarely looks the way it used to. But through all the chaos, i've learned something valuable: Patience. I've learned to breathe through the mess, to embrace the unpredictability, and to let go of the pressure to have it all figured out.
What hasn't changed is my belief in effort. I still strive to give my best, whether it's at home or at work. But I no longer chase perfection - I chase presence, growth, and grace. And that, to me, is a different kind of success.
Through it all, I've been incredibly fortunate to have the unwavering support of my husband. From the early days of pregnancy, when we carefully chose every detail for our daughter's arrival, to the sleepless nights and countless small moments of new parenthood - he has been my rock. His love, presence, and partnership have made this transition not just bearable, but beautiful. I am endlessly grateful for him.
The Complexity of Matrescence
Matrescence - the physical, emotional, hormonal, and social transition to becoming a mother - is a profound identity shift that society often underestimates. When you're a new mother, it feels like everyone wants a piece of you - your baby, your job, your family, even your own expectations. Add sleep deprivation, hormonal fluctuations, and the emotional toll of leaving your baby each morning, and it becomes one of the most complex transitions a woman can go through.
Parental leave isn't a break. It's one of the most intense onboarding programs life has to offer. From sleepless nights to feeding every two hours, swaddling, burping, decoding cries, and learning how to love in ways I didn't know existed - those months were anything but restful. And just as i began to find some footing, to see my baby evolve from fragile newborn to curious infant who smiles back...it was time to return to my paying job.
Rediscovering Myself
Maternity leave was nothing short of extraordinary. Slowing down from my usual fast-paced life to witness my daughter grow - those first smiles, sleepy cuddles, tiny milestones - was magical. Becoming a mother has been the most humbling, overwhelming, and awe-inspiring experience of my life.
But equally, i've found joy in returning to work.. Reclaiming a rhythm that feels familiar. Re-engaging with the pace, the purpose, the challenges that once defined my days. There is a sense of empowerment in rediscovering myself - not just as a mother, but also as a professional, a contributor, a woman with ambitions and ideas that still matter.
Owning the Juggle
Motherhood, for those of us who chose it, is not just a chapter - it's a permanent, ever-evolving part of who we are. Each stage brings something new: fresh challenges, shifting routines, unexpected lessons. And no matter how much structure you try to create, there will always be something you're juggling - whether it's nap schedules and meetings, teething and deadlines, or just quiet emotional weight of being everything to someone so small.
At first, the chaos can feel disorienting. You search for balance, for control, for the version of yourself you once recognized. But over time, something beautiful happens. You begin to make peace with the juggle. You stop fighting the imperfection of it all. You start to own it.
And that's when the shift happens - not just around you, but within you. Slowly, you realize you are stronger than you've ever been. More courageous. More intuitive. More grounded. You've stretched is ways you never imagined possible. You've evolved.
Looking Ahead
Soon, I'll be sharing another special chapter - taking my daughter to Lebanon, to introduce her to the people and places that have shaped my soul - before she became the one to reshape it entirely.
This journey isn't perfect, but it's beautifully real. And I'm learning to find peace in that.
Because one day, when I look back at this version of me - tired but tenacious, scared but showing up - I know I'll feel pride. A deep, quiet pride that surpasses titles, milestones, and wins. Because I didn't just survive this season.
I grew in it.
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