In my early days of motherhood, I felt fragmented. My body was exhausted but I kept pushing it, like beyond. Like I could ‘win’ at mothering. My mind was spinning with worry but I couldn't quiet it. My emotions were huge but I felt numb. And I had no idea who I was anymore beyond "someone who keeps this baby alive." I needed something that could help me check in with all of it without taking an hour I didn't have. The PIES Meditation became that tool.

For new mothers, this practice is life-changing. Because in early motherhood, it's easy to lose track of which part of you needs attention. You're so focused on keeping your baby alive that you forget to check in with yourself. A PIES Meditation gives you a structure to do that. In 5-10 minutes. Even when you're exhausted.

What I now know that I needed is practical tools (not aspirational wellness advice or Instagram mantras) to actually come back to myself when I felt like I was failing. Two practices have changed this for me. They're the ones I return to again and again, even now. They're the ones I teach every new mother I work with. And I'm sharing them with you today because if you're in the thick of early motherhood, you need them too.

If you're wondering whether what you're experiencing is "normal," here's what I wish someone had said to me:

Trust yourself. If it feels like too much, it probably is. You're not being dramatic. You're not overreacting.

Postpartum anxiety is incredibly common. Up to 15-20% of new mothers experience it. You're not alone, and you're not broken.

It's not your fault. This isn't about not being strong enough or grateful enough or calm enough. It's a medical condition with biological roots.

You can get better. With the right support: therapy, mindfulness practices, possibly medication, community, you can feel like yourself again.

You don't have to suffer through it. There's this toxic narrative that motherhood is supposed to be overwhelming and miserable. But constant, consuming anxiety isn't a required part of the experience.

This practice didn't just help me survive the hard moments. It helped me actually experience the good ones too. Because when you practice being present with discomfort, you also get better at being present with joy. With the weight of your baby on your chest. With the miracle of their tiny fingers. With the fierce love that sometimes feels too big for your body.

Three minutes taught me how to be here. Not in my anxiety about the future or my regrets about the past. Just here. And on the hardest days of early motherhood and early sobriety, being here was the only way through.

There's a kind of peace that only comes after you've been through something intense. You've survived birth. Your baby is here and healthy. You're alive. For a few seconds at a time, that's enough. That's everything. I'd be feeding my baby and suddenly feel this wave of gratitude so big it almost knocked me over. I'd look at my partner holding our baby and think: we made this. we're doing this. this is real. We prayed and waited and wished and now it’s real.