I opened my bedside table drawer today for the first time in months.

Well, that’s not 100% true — it was the first time I actually looked inside it in months. A handful of times, I had opened it just a crack, shoved something in, and moved on. Or, more likely, I had gotten distracted by the ten other things I needed to do that day — or by a completely new task — leaving whatever I was doing half-finished.

Postpartum… it’s a trip, let me tell you.

Anyway, I looked inside the drawer to find something, and it completely stopped me in my tracks. It felt like ice water had been poured down the back of my shirt. This was no longer my drawer. What stood out was a half-open box of vitamins I used to take every night and a forgotten sleeve of saltine crackers.

It felt like the person who opened and closed this drawer every night was a ghost.

Yet, here I stood.

That’s what nobody tells you about postpartum: part of you really does become a ghost.

The part of you that thinks you don’t have any free time.
The part that thinks 24 hours in a day is enough.
The part of you that remembers to take her vitamins.

She doesn’t exist when you’re four months postpartum.

She’s replaced by a new person — someone who lives life three to four hours at a time, puts everyone above herself, and desperately wants a break, yet can only think about getting back to her baby when she finally gets one.

There are two births the day you become a mom — your baby, and this new version of you.

You become Mama.
You become the centre of your baby’s world.

And that is absolutely terrifying.

And the greatest gift.

It takes time to figure out your new identity. I know I’m still working on mine. But I wonder…

What would it look like to put yourself first just 1% more of the time — so you can be the best version of yourself? Even if that simply means putting your baby in a bouncer so you can enjoy a hot cup of coffee for the first time all week.

What would it mean to allow yourself to grieve your old life while also sitting with all the emotions of your new one?

How might you feel if you allowed yourself to take a deep breath a few times a day? Amazing, right?

It’s okay to feel like you’ve completely lost yourself after having a baby — because, in many ways, you have. The version of you that existed before doesn’t exist anymore, and that’s okay. Becoming a new version of yourself is normal and necessary.

Your life isn’t the same.

You aren’t the same.

Let’s stop thinking that “losing yourself” is bad.

Rather, let’s start becoming ourselves.

That’s why I started Nurtured Family Counselling.

I want to create a space where parents can openly talk about their experiences — without judgment, without pressure, just real and relatable conversations. I strive to understand you — your history, your struggles, your story — and help you move forward in a way that is rooted in your values and goals.

To help you explore your old drawers.

And open new ones.