Happy Mother’s Day, Mommas! It’s Mother’s Day. It’s my son’s first birthday. And it’s my first year officially celebrating Mother’s Day as a momma. Whew, what a year! This is all about what I love about becoming a momma and the lessons from my first year of motherhood, the ones that shook me, shaped me, and stretched me in ways I never saw coming.
I originally planned to launch this blog on January 1st because I love a good fresh start at the top of the year. But when you’re writing for a living, styling hair, exclusively breastfeeding, and married to a husband who likes to be involved in everything (love you, boo!), sometimes time just doesn’t exist. I second-guessed myself constantly—who has time for a blog?
But today felt right. It’s a full-circle moment. And what better day to share the lessons from my first year of motherhood than the day it all began?
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Last year, I gave birth the day before Mother’s Day. And while technically, I was a mother, it didn’t feel like my day yet. I was still swollen, still processing, still in awe. But internally? I celebrated. Because my body had just done something impossible—something life-changing.
After 24 hours of labor—no epidural, deep squat position, and a birthing center filled with three midwives, my husband, and my doula—I delivered my baby boy into this world. And after a full year of motherhood, I can say without a doubt, it was the best experience of my life.
I’m grateful for this journey. I’m grateful for life. And I’m grateful for my little wild child, who is now walking, running, and clear about what he wants out of life—which, apparently, includes everything he shouldn’t have (phone chargers, cell phones, headphones, all the dangerous things).
But honestly? That’s life. That’s the human experience. I’ve realized after a year of this that adults are just big babies, and babies are just tiny adults. At the end of the day, we’re all just people—learning, reaching, and wanting things we probably shouldn’t have.
So, to celebrate Mother’s Day, here are 10 things I love about being a momma—and what I’ve learned along the way.
10 Lessons from My First Year of Motherhood
1. I love my husband.
Of course I love my husband, duh! But, real talk, what would I do without him? My support system, my extra set of hands, the one person my son confides in outside of me. I live for the way Amor’s whole face lights up when his dad’s picture pops up on my phone, or when he comes home from work, and Amor practically glows in his presence.
Of course, I want my son to love me, but watching him love his dad? That’s a different kind of joy. There’s something special about seeing my little boy run full speed into his father’s arms like he’s been waiting all day for that hug. It makes me feel good knowing he has that kind of love from both of us. And when he decides to be a Daddy’s boy for the moment, it gives me some much-needed ‘me time’—which I gladly take!
2. I love that I exclusively breastfed for a year.
This was a dream of mine. My momma told me she tried once in the hospital, struggled, and gave up. She didn’t have a doula, didn’t have support. A nurse just shrugged and said, “Give her a bottle.”
I held that against her for years. But now? I get it.
Breastfeeding is hard. The first month was hell. But my doula came by the day after I gave birth, showed me how to express milk, how to position my breast for the best latch, and most importantly, she spoke life into me. She told me, “If you can make it through the first month, you’ve got it.” So I pushed through. Cracked nipples and all.
And here we are—one full year later. Exclusively breastfeeding. (With the occasional pumped bottle for father-son time, of course.) Some days it felt like all I did was nurse. It felt endless, exhausting, and sometimes even isolating. But when my son looks up at me mid-feed with those big, grateful eyes, or reaches for me when he’s sleepy, I know all the hard work was worth it.
3. I love working from home.
Being a multi-hyphenate has its perks. I act, I write, I do hair. And while I can’t act from home, the industry’s been slow since the strikes, which has allowed me to focus on my at-home hustles.
I get to make my own schedule. I get to witness every milestone. I don’t have to worry about experiencing daycare horror stories. And as someone who was raised by a grandmother while my momma worked full-time, I can’t imagine dropping him off and not knowing exactly what’s going on or having a personal relationship with the person he’s with.
I know not everyone gets this luxury, and I don’t take it for granted. Some days are chaotic—I might be writing a script with one hand while holding my baby with the other. But even on my most tired days, I wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.
4. I’ve learned to have patience with my body.
Listen—I want to snap back. And seeing other mommas look snatched right after giving birth had me feeling a way. But I remind myself:
- I know how to lose weight.
- I know how to work out.
- I know how to tone and burn fat.
I’ve done it before. And I’ll do it again.
Now, I focus on feeling good rather than just looking good. A morning walk? A jog? That’s my win for the day. Some days, I stand in the mirror and remind myself that this body built a whole human. That my loose skin, stretch marks, and curves are proof of what I’ve created. My body deserves my love, my patience, and my gratitude.
5. I’ve learned to have patience with family.
Whew. The unsolicited advice? Overwhelming.
At first, I was a lioness, ready to roar at anyone coming near my cub. But over time, I softened. Because I realized: they’re adjusting too.
Grandparents, aunties, uncles—they’re welcoming a new family member, just like I am. And for some of them, I’m still their baby.
So, I send them unlimited videos and pictures, and I let them share their advice while reminiscing on their ‘back in my day’ stories. And I take what serves me.
I’ve learned not to take everything personally. I remind myself that most of the advice (even the bad advice) comes from a place of love. The best thing I can do is listen, say “thank you,” and then do what’s best for my child.
6. I’ve learned to trust my own instincts.
The internet is loud when it comes to parenting. Every other post tells you something different: Every other post is:
- Do this, don’t do that.
- Buy this, avoid that.
- Say this, don’t say that.
- Be like this, don’t be like that.
It’s exhausting.
At first, I found myself spiraling in confusion, second-guessing everything. Now? I tune it out. I trust my intuition. I listen to my baby and what our family needs. No random social media expert can replace a mother’s gut instinct.
7. I love witnessing every milestone.
His first smile. First tooth. First time eating solids. First steps.
Watching my son experience life for the first time has been surreal. It’s wild to think we all went through this, yet we remember none of it.
Which means these moments? They’re really for us, the parents. And I don’t take a second of it for granted.
These moments are fleeting, and I soak them all in. Each new milestone reminds me how fast this phase of life is flying by.
8. I love that I’m reliving my childhood.
Watching my son experience life for the first time makes me appreciate my own childhood.
My momma kept me alive! Like… I made it to adulthood. That alone deserves an award. (Did she drop me on my head a few times? Maybe. But she did her best.)
Even the little things—playing with toys, watching cartoons—take me back to simpler times. It’s like I get to be a kid again through him.
And I love that for us.
9. I love that my son has brought me closer to family.
I’ve always been a bit of a loner. Only child vibes. My husband is my best friend, and I’ve always kinda moved through life like it was just me.
But my son? He changed that.
He’s connected me to family and friends in a way I never expected. I talk to my momma more. I understand her more. I’ve built stronger bonds with my in-laws. I found myself forming deeper bonds with other mommas in my life.
Becoming a Momma has opened me up in ways I didn’t see coming.
10. I’ve learned to love myself in a whole new way.
I did something big. I carried a baby. I gave birth. I survived it.
Women are magical. I am magical. I look at my son walking around and think, I built that.
Motherhood has shown me my strength in ways I never imagined. I look in the mirror, stretch marks and all, and I don’t see flaws—I see proof of the magic my body created.
Motherhood is magic. A blessing. An honor. A privilege.
And Mommas? I’m just getting started. 💛
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