To the woman wondering if she wants kids.
Until my mid-thirties, I was adamant I didn’t want kids. I loved my independence, my apartment, my ability to go anywhere without reporting to anyone. I didn’t feel broken or incomplete without motherhood. I also thought I was missing the “nurturing” gene that so many women seemed naturally equipped with. I was never the girl who wanted to play with baby dolls or babysit. For a long time, I thought kids were snot-filled annoyances that I wanted nothing to do with.
But as my friends started having kids, I felt my stance beginning to soften a bit. I watched as the incredibly accomplished women in my life continued to accomplish incredible things while raising families. Here I had thought motherhood would lobotomize their personality, but to my surprise, I saw women who were still themselves. Sure, availability changed, and conversations included more kid talk, but their identities didn’t evaporate. My friends still had depth, ambition, humor curiosity. They were still whole.
And then there were the kids themselves. I remember watching a friend’s son explore kitchen cabinets with his wobbly steps and senseless babble. His giddy excitement over a pot lid tugged at something in me. I marveled at how this tiny human giggled, explored, and expressed unfiltered love. I imagined what it would be like to live with a child and watch them learn, explore, and grow. The idea of experiencing the mundane through a child’s curious eyes started to feel like a part of the human experience I might actually want.
By the time I met my husband, I thought that just maybe I was interested in becoming a mom if the right man came along. And he did. And then my daughter did too. From the outside, I’m sure it seemed like I flipped a switch. For years, motherhood wasn’t in my life plan. And then suddenly it was. And it became the best thing that ever happened to me.
Do I think motherhood is for everyone? No. But if you’re where I once was, I want to share some of the things I wish someone had told me.
1. You might think you’re too selfish to be a mom. That could actually mean you’d be great.
I thought I was too selfish to be a mom. I loved my freedom. I loved my quiet. I loved my autonomy. I thought I’d resent giving up my time to tend to someone else’s needs.
But here’s the truth: I think women who worry about being selfish are probably actually incredibly thoughtful mothers. Thinking that you’re selfish isn’t a flaw; it’s awareness. It means you’re thinking critically about the demands of motherhood.
Once you have a child, you don’t suddenly become a different, completely selfless person. But the love for your child expands your capacity beyond the limits you thought you had. You just… do it. You do the diaper changes, the snack times, the car‑packing, the endless tasks. You love this little person, and you’ll do whatever it takes to ensure they’re cared for.
2. Your kid will instill wonder in you like you’ve never felt before.
I look at my daughter every day and marvel at her. The fact that she came from my body is something I still can’t fully comprehend. Her arrival into the world is where the wonder began, and it hasn’t stopped since.
The first time I heard her giggle it was such a beautiful sound I almost cried. The first time she rolled over by herself, my husband and I cheered and high fived as if our team had won the Super Bowl. Now that she’s walking, I follow her around the house just to see what her little brain finds fascinating. The way she discovers the world is nonsensical, hilarious, and incredible.
You don’t have to be “nurturing” to experience this. Wonder doesn’t require a gene. It grows with the relationship.
3. Motherhood is really hard.
I have a law degree. I worked in biglaw. I know hard. And motherhood is HARD.
Sleep deprivation. Feeding struggles. Identity shifts. Postpartum anxiety or depression. Relationship strain. Pressure. Judgment. Overwhelm. The learning curve. The relentlessness.
There are days you run on empty and scrape the bottom of your gas tank for one last drop because you don’t have the option to turn the car off. You have to keep going.
A strong partner and a solid village help, but they don’t erase the difficulty. Motherhood is both beautiful and brutal. Both can be true. And the hard moments make the good moments that much better.
4. It’s okay to carry reservations.
My biggest fear as a mom is for my daughter and the world she’ll grow up in. I think every parent probably feels this to some extent. But then I ask myself, what’s the alternative? Should the human race go extinct?
When I turn that question onto myself, I know that I’m grateful I’ve been given the gift of the Human Experience, even in an imperfect world. I hope that someday, my daughter feels the same. And my hope is to raise her to be a person who adds joy, good, and hope to this world.
5. Uncertainty isn’t a red flag.
For years, I thought everyone who became a parent had some deep certainty that I lacked. But I’ve learned that women who question motherhood often approach it with more intention and more self-awareness. Uncertainty doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be a mom. It means you’re paying attention.
If you're unsure, that's okay. You don't have to have it all figured out today. You don't have to know with absolute confidence whether motherhood is for you. I certainly didn't. All I know is that for me, keeping an open mind led to the greatest joy of my life.
Questions to reflect on:
If you’re unsure about motherhood, here are some questions I think I would have found helpful to reflect on when I was in your shoes:
What parts of motherhood scare me?
What parts of motherhood intrigue me?
What do I think I’d lose?
What do I think I might gain?
What version of motherhood feels possible for me?
Does what I see online skew my perception of motherhood?
What kind of life do I want in five years? 15? 30? How do I feel about motherhood beyond the baby and toddler years?
How do I really feel if I remove pressure, expectations and timelines?
These aren’t questions to solve today. Just ideas to explore while you’re in the middle. Click here to find a free PDF version of these questions.