Becoming a mom spiritually cracked me open in ways I never expected.

I became a mom shortly after my own mom passed away. The timing brought up a lot of emotions as the months went on, but at that stage of my life, I was fully ready to become a mother… at least on paper.

I had spent most of my life around children. From high school up until 2019, I was in classrooms teaching. I knew what it was like to care for kids, guide them, discipline them, and hold space for them. Financially, I was secure. My home life was secure. In every logical way, I was ready.And beyond all of that, my heart deeply wanted a child.

I also know that I am a good mom. I have devoted so much time, energy, love, and presence into my daughter. I show up as the best version of myself as often as I can.

But there is also a confession I think more mothers need to say out loud:

Becoming a mom cracked me open.

And I think it does this to most people, especially those of us who don’t have a huge village surrounding us.

You can prepare for parenthood in practical ways, but you can never fully prepare for the reality of it because parenthood asks you to become deeply selfless.

No matter how used to children you are, caring for another human being 24/7, every single day, changes you. When you’re sick, you still have to push through. When you’re overwhelmed, your child still needs you. When you have things to do, your child comes first.  Your life is no longer just about you. There is beauty in that, but there is also grief, exhaustion, identity shifts, and growing pains that people do not talk about enough.

Motherhood has a way of forcing you into a more evolved version of yourself if you allow it to.

I think many parents are afraid to admit they struggled because they worry it makes them a bad parent or means they should not have become one. But struggling does not mean you failed. In many ways, it means you are being transformed.

Yes, there are people who become parents for the wrong reasons. But if you care deeply about how you are showing up for your child, if you are self-aware enough to reflect on your patterns, your triggers, your healing, and your growth, then you were meant to evolve through this experience.

Instead of fighting the process, motherhood asked me to go deeper.

What is triggering me?
What is this trying to teach me?
What needs to change within me?

For me, motherhood revealed how sensitive I truly am. It showed me how much energy I absorb from others without realizing it because the moments I could not step away or recharge became impossible to ignore.

It also brought childhood wounds to the surface.

I realized how unseen I often felt growing up. My parents loved me and supported me in the ways they knew how, but I still carried the feeling of not being fully understood. Because my daughter shares many of the same qualities I do, I became intentional about parenting her differently. I wanted her to feel emotionally seen in ways I craved myself.

Motherhood also showed me how much I was carrying for everyone else.

I was so used to taking on everyone’s emotions, problems, and responsibilities that becoming a parent made me realize I physically and emotionally could not do it all anymore. My child became my first priority alongside calming my nervous system.

That required change. 

And maybe one of the biggest lessons of all was learning how to receive. I had spent most of my life pouring into other people. Supporting them. Holding them together. Being the dependable one.

Motherhood made me realize I needed people who could pour into me too.
I needed a healthier circle. I needed support. I needed rest. I needed softness. Looking back now, becoming a mom feels deeply divinely planned.

My daughter became the catalyst for my transformation. Every time I think I cannot move forward, I think of her. Every time fear tells me to stay small, I think of her. Every time I resist growth that I know is in my highest good, I think of her. She reminds me of the bigger picture.

People ask us often if we are going to have more children. Truthfully, my heart will probably always want more. Especially after miscarriage and carrying the grief of a child I never got to meet earthside. But experience changes you.

And while my heart may want more, my body and nervous system know that right now, having my daughter is what I can fully hold with presence, stability, and love. I can pour into her in the way she deserves. A few years ago, I may not have had the awareness to admit that. There is grief in that realization, but there is also wisdom.

Sometimes healing means learning the difference between impulsive desire and what is actually healthiest for your mind, body, and soul.

Parenthood is one of the most spiritual experiences I have ever lived through because it strips you down to your rawest self. It reveals your wounds, your patterns, your fears, your conditioning, your strengths, and your capacity to grow.

Children do not just need us to raise them.
Sometimes they arrive here to help raise our consciousness too.

And I think the struggles of parenthood need to be talked about more openly. Not to shame motherhood, but to humanize it. To remind parents that transformation and overwhelm can exist alongside deep love.

You can adore your child and still grieve parts of yourself. You can be grateful and exhausted. You can be healing while also nurturing someone else. Two things can exist at once. And maybe that is part of the spiritual lesson too.