The Things I Couldn’t Control

Thoughts from a recovering perfectionist turned new mom

I have spent most of my life thinking, researching, planning, and believing that if I prepared well enough, worked hard enough, and stayed organized enough, I could achieve almost anything.

Not perfectly, of course. But competently.

I could research it.
Plan for it.
Systemize it.
Push through it.
Figure it out.

And then I got pregnant.

And not just pregnant, but high-risk pregnant.

I’ve always been a Type A girl. I see the goal, I commit to achieving it, and with enough hard work, determination, a few prayers, and a whole lot of complaining, I usually get there.

I like systems. I like being prepared. I like knowing what’s going on. I like feeling capable, organized, and ahead of things at all times.

Control has always brought me a sense of comfort. For better or worse, it grounds me.

Honestly, I don’t think anything could have prepared me for how much the unknowns of a high-risk pregnancy would shake me. Because suddenly, no amount of planning, researching, organizing, or productivity could guarantee that things would go according to plan.

And as someone who is used to handling things well, that is a really uncomfortable place to be.

There were a million moments throughout my pregnancy where I just wanted certainty. A clear answer. A guarantee. Some kind of reassurance that if I did everything “right,” things would work out exactly the way I hoped they would.

But pregnancy, especially a complicated one, doesn’t really care how organized you are.

There is so much waiting.
So much uncertainty.
So much completely out of your control.

And for the first time in a long time, I had to sit with the reality that I could not plan my way out of being scared.

No one could guarantee success.
No amount of preparation could fully quiet the fear.

I had my daughter just over three weeks ago, and I still feel like I’m processing everything a little bit. So, like I do with most things, I’m processing through writing.

The appointments.
The monitoring.
The constant mental math.
The fear.
The relief.
The way my entire perspective quietly shifted without asking permission first.

I also think becoming a mom has made me realize how many millennials, especially women, spent years building identities around being capable.

We got the degrees.
Built the careers.
Learned how to juggle everything.
Became the dependable ones.
The organized ones.
The ones who handle things.

And then life hands you something that cannot be fully managed with a checklist.

That changes you a little.

What’s surprised me most is that now that I’m on maternity leave, I don’t actually miss work the way I thought I would. I thought I would feel restless or disconnected without constantly checking emails, managing projects, or keeping everything moving.

Instead, I feel like I’m breathing for the first time in a while.

Life is definitely not calm yet. I’m only a few weeks into motherhood after a pretty scary journey to get here, and everything still feels a little blurry, emotional, and new.

But underneath all of that, there’s this growing realization that work no longer feels like the center of my life in the same way it once did.

It still matters to me. I still care deeply about doing good work.

But it feels more appropriately sized now.

And honestly? I think that shift started long before my daughter arrived. Pregnancy just forced me to slow down long enough to notice it.

If you’ve ever gone through a season of life that forced you to loosen your grip a little, I’d love to hear about it. I have a feeling a lot of us are learning how to navigate uncertainty in real time.