Why Motherhood Is a Masterclass in Resilience

It’s been 100 days since I became a mom and 120 since I stepped away from the job I love and the social life that came with it. Before I left, my CCO promised I’d come back even better—not just from the break, but from the new experiences I’d gain.

What no one told me was how hard it would be to step away. I had a turbulent delivery, and was in and out of the hospital for two weeks—14 days of feeling incapable of doing the one thing I’d waited 274 days for. Once I was in the clear, I finally felt ready to parent. But immediately, a holy-shit moment hit: I have this tiny human to look after, and I have no idea what I’m doing. The questions came fast:

Who am I now?

Can I even do this?

And—though I didn’t want it to—I wonder what’s happening at work right now?

I wanted to be fully present for my baby, but part of me kept wondering if work would still be there for me. I told myself I was fine, but deep down, I didn’t feel fine. Maybe it was postpartum, maybe the weight of change. Either way, it was a lot.

In search of something familiar, I started checking work emails—scrolling through LinkedIn, scanning award shows, clinging to the life I knew. Projects moved on. People moved on. I texted old colleagues, hoping they hadn’t. Even with reassurances, doubt crept in. Had I been forgotten? Had my creativity been replaced by diapers and dancing fruit? In business, it can feel like everyone’s replaceable. On maternity leave, that feels especially cruel.

There’s a cultural narrative that says motherhood should be fulfilling enough. But while I love my son more than anything, I miss using my brain for more than tracking sleep cycles and bottle ounces. That doesn’t make me a bad mom—it makes me human.

Parenthood is a series of contradictions. You’re home with your newborn during one of the happiest times of your life—but it’s also one of the hardest. You want to do it all, yet some days, you feel like you can hardly do anything. And through it all, you’re expected to thrive in this beautiful, messy in-between.

But here’s what I’m learning: My energy hasn’t been divided—it’s been doubled.

Becoming a mom has taught me so much already. It has made me more resilient, more intuitive, more efficient. Parenthood—like advertising—demands creativity, adaptability, and constant problem-solving. It’s running on no sleep, thinking on your feet, and adapting in real-time.

I know it’ll be just as hard to leave my little boy when I go back, but I also know I’m not losing myself in the process. I’ll come back different, sure, but not any less capable. I’ve learned a lot, and I’ll bring that with me when I return.

To every mother who’s wondered, “Will my work remember me?”—it might. It might not. But you will remember you. And that’s what matters.

And to the industry: Don’t just wait for us to come back—prepare for us to come back stronger.

Stop seeing parenthood as a pause. Start seeing it for what it really is: a masterclass in resilience, empathy, and leadership.

Because when we do return, it won’t just be to pick up where we left off—it’ll be to build something even better.