This is a love letter to that transformation, and to every mother who has ever wondered if she's doing it right. (Spoiler: you are.)

The Myth of the "Natural" Mother

We're sold an image of motherhood that arrives fully formed — instincts intact, baby latched, lullabies memorized. But the truth is much messier, and much more interesting.

Becoming a mother is a skill, not a switch. It's built one feeding, one tantrum, one impossible decision at a time. According to research from the American Psychological Association, the maternal brain literally rewires itself in the postpartum period — growing in regions associated with empathy, anxiety, and reward.

So if you feel like a different person, it's because you genuinely are.

What the Early Days Really Look Like

The first weeks are a blur of contradictions:

• You're more tired than you knew was biologically possible, but you can't stop staring at this small person.
• You're madly in love, and also occasionally terrified.
• You feel ancient and brand new at the same time.
• You laugh and cry in the same five-minute span, sometimes about the same thing.

None of this means anything is wrong. It means you're paying attention.

When to Ask for Help

There's a difference between the ordinary hard of new motherhood and something that needs support. If you're experiencing persistent sadness, intrusive thoughts, or feeling disconnected from your baby for more than a couple of weeks, please reach out to your healthcare provider or a resource like Postpartum Support International.

Asking for help isn't a sign that you're failing. It's one of the most maternal things you can do.

The Things No One Warns You About

Some surprises that nobody mentioned in the prenatal classes:

1. You'll cry at commercials. Insurance ads will undo you. So will the news. So will your own reflection at unexpected moments.
2. You'll develop bionic hearing. You'll wake up two seconds before the baby does. Forever.
3. You'll mourn your old life — and that's okay. Loving your new one doesn't erase what came before. Both can be true.
4. Your relationship with your own mother will shift. Sometimes closer, sometimes more complicated, often both.
5. You'll never look at a pediatrician's waiting room the same way again.

Finding Yourself Inside the Mother

One of the strangest parts of this whole experience is realizing that you're still in there. The woman who loved obscure novels, played pickup basketball, made terrible puns — she didn't disappear. She just got temporarily buried under laundry.

Part of the work of motherhood is figuring out how to reach back for her. Not the exact same version of yourself — that woman is gone, and grieving her a little is allowed — but a new edition. One who happens to also be someone's mom.

Small Ways to Stay Connected to Yourself

You don't need a spa weekend (though if someone offers, take it). Try these instead:

• Keep one hobby alive, even badly. Ten minutes counts.
• Text a friend something that has nothing to do with your child.
• Read something — anything — that isn't a parenting article. (Ironic, given where you are right now.)
• Step outside without the baby for fifteen minutes. The world is still there.

A Note to the Mother Reading This at 2 a.m.

If you're scrolling through this article with one hand while nursing or rocking or just sitting in the blue glow of a baby monitor, I see you.

You are doing one of the hardest, most invisible jobs there is. You are building a person. You are also still building yourself. Both of those things are sacred, and both of them are exhausting.

Tomorrow will be a little easier. And if it isn't, the day after might be. And one day — sooner than feels possible right now — you'll look up and realize you've become someone you didn't know you could be.

Welcome to motherhood. We're glad you're here.

Second Wedding Anniversary

The anniversary notification popped up on my phone on the 21st and I remember looking down at it, standing somewhere on a street in Taipei, and thinking: yeah, this is a good one.

Wedding Anniversary notification on phone over a decorative manhole cover in Taiwan

1. Our flight left late at night on March 16th, which sounded doable in theory. In practice it meant spending the entire afternoon trying to pack, re-pack, and make sure we hadn't forgotten anything for Paul — while also making sure we hadn't forgotten anything for ourselves. By the time we got to the airport we were already a little frazzled. But we made it.

• Taiwan welcome sign at the airport arrivals hall
• Walking through the arrivals corridor at Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport
• We landed and made our way to Finders Hotel near Taipei Main Station. It was past 2 AM. The lobby had this big geometric deer sculpture that I thought was cool even half-asleep. We checked in, put Paul down, and crashed.

Accommodation

Finders Hotel lobby with geometric white deer sculpture and rustic decor

The next morning — before we'd even properly left the room — my husband was already out cold again, and I was holding a carton of Ovaltine I'd grabbed from a convenience store the night before, scrolling through maps trying to plan the day. I have a photo of exactly this moment. It captures us perfectly.

Ovaltine carton held up in front of a sleeping husband at the hotel on day one

Ximending

Day 1: Ximending

• The first full day started with no plan other than walking. We pointed ourselves toward Ximending and just let the neighborhood take us wherever. The area is basically non-stop — shops on top of shops, billboards stacked up every direction you look, music from storefronts, and people everywhere. Paul was wide-eyed the whole time.
• Ximending street scene with large colorful billboards and advertisements

My husband immediately went into full navigator mode — phone out, checking the map, already making mental notes about where to stop next. He looked very at home in this city. He always does.

Husband standing in Ximending checking his phone with the busy street behind him

I stepped off the curb onto the rainbow crosswalk and made him take a photo. He obliged without me even having to ask. We've been together long enough that he just knows.

Standing on the rainbow-painted crosswalk in Ximending on day one

Wide shot of the Ximending rainbow crosswalk with city buildings behind

The first real stop was Xing Fu Tang — brown sugar milk tea, the kind with those big boba pearls. It was exactly as good as I'd heard. I held it up for the photo because obviously.

Xing Fu Tang

Holding up an Xing Fu Tang brown sugar milk tea cup in Ximending

Then xiao long bao from their sister spot, Xing Fu Tang Xiao Long Bao. Five little soup dumplings in a white ceramic bowl. My husband ate his in about thirty seconds. We sat with Paul in his stroller and just took a minute to actually breathe and enjoy it.

Outside the Xing Fu Tang Xiao Long Bao restaurant storefront

We walked the graffiti-covered alleys near Ximending — walls completely covered in stickers and tags, layered over and over like the whole city had been signing its name there for years. I kind of loved it.

A wall completely covered in graffiti tags and stickers in a Ximending alley

Fried chicken from Jiguang Fried Chicken was next. A stop that needed no debate. We ate standing outside the shop while Paul watched the street.

Jiguang Fried Chicken restaurant storefront in Taipei

Before we headed back, we found FOTOLAB — this little booth that prints your photos as a newspaper front page. We did it. They used a photo of us from earlier in the day: me, my husband, and Paul in his stroller, walking through the streets of Ximending. The headline was something dramatic in Chinese that I could only partially read. It felt like a proper souvenir.

Husband pointing at the FOTOLAB Ximending newspaper souvenir outside the booth

The FOTOLAB newspaper print of our family, laid on a bed at the hotel

That evening the area came alive differently. Lights everywhere, more people, and street performers had taken over the open square. We watched a guy doing a handstand routine on a metal pole — fully inverted, no harness, no net — and we both just stood there with our mouths open.

Street performer doing an upside-down pole act at night in Ximending

We ended the night walking the main stretch with Paul in the stroller, me behind him, both of us slow and tired in the best way. The kind of tired that only happens when the day was actually full.

Pushing Paul's stroller through Ximending at night with lights and crowds in the background

Shifen

Day 2: Shifen, street food, and a surprise train

We got up early and took an Uber to Shifen Old Street for the sky lanterns. The road there winds through the mountains and by the time you arrive, the whole town feels a little out of time — old train tracks running right through the middle of the street, paper lanterns hanging everywhere, and vendors setting up for the day.

We bought a lantern and wrote our wishes on the four sides. My husband wrote something for Paul. I wrote something I'm keeping to myself. We lit it, watched it rise above the treetops, and I held it together right up until I couldn't.

Then, as if on cue, a train came rolling down the tracks through the middle of the old street. Tourists scattered, stroller and all. Paul was completely unbothered and reached out like he wanted to touch it. We did not let him touch it.

Street food came next — peanut ice cream rolls, sausage, and stuffed chicken wings that my husband has mentioned to at least three separate people since we got home. We walked slowly. Bought stickers, a small toy for Paul. Did the whole thing right.

That evening back in Taipei we found a ramen spot and sat down properly for the first time all day. Tonkotsu broth, thick with the kind of richness that takes hours. A soft egg. Nori. A bowl of sides. Paul fell asleep in the stroller mid-meal and we had a quiet dinner together while the restaurant hummed around us.

Ramen

A bowl of rich tonkotsu ramen with a soft egg, nori, and green onions

The full ramen spread at the table with extra sides and a side bowl

We grabbed an Ovaltine can from a convenience store on the way home, because we'd been doing that almost every day and it became a thing.

Holding an Ovaltine can on the train

Day 3: Taipei 101 and the metro we should have taken sooner

Day three we finally got on the metro and I genuinely wished we'd done it from the start. It's clean, easy to navigate, fast, and cheap in a way that still surprises me when I think about it. There were lifts at every station we used. The gates were wide enough for the stroller. Nobody looked at us funny. It just worked.

Holding Paul on my lap on the Taipei metro, both of us looking at the camera

Husband standing and smiling on the metro with the stroller at his feet

We went to Taipei 101. We stood outside and looked up at it for a while before doing anything else. It's one of those buildings that photos don't fully prepare you for.

Husband posing in front of Taipei 101 looking up at the tower

The mall below it is connected and sprawling. I found a good spot between some trees near the glass facade and made my husband take a photo. The light was nice and I was wearing my blazer and I looked like I had my life together, which felt like an achievement after three days of stroller logistics.

Posing between trees outside the Taipei 101 mall area in a black blazer and sunglasses

The original plan was Din Tai Fung, but the line was long and Paul was not in a patient mood. We found something else nearby and ate well. No regrets. We also walked past Hooters Taipei of all places, and my husband insisted we stop for a photo with Paul. Our son, wearing his little white outfit, looked completely unbothered about being held up in front of a Hooters sign.

Husband holding Paul in front of the Hooters sign in Taipei, both looking relaxed

We sat at one of the outdoor areas near Taipei 101, drank something cold, and did nothing for a little bit. That felt like a small luxury.

Holding up a cylindrical drink cup from a Taipei tea shop

Day 4: Gondola, zoo, and last look at Ximending

Last full day. We took the metro to the Maokong Gondola — the gondola goes up into the forested hills and the views on the way up were worth it. Paul was very much awake and very much interested in the moving cable car.

At the top there's a cluster of tea houses and small spots to sit. We got cold drinks and sat outside with the mountains around us, doing nothing particular. It's the kind of spot where you don't feel rushed. We stayed longer than we planned.

Holding up an orange drink with a cute bear sticker at an outdoor spot in Maokong with green hills in the background

Then down to Taipei Zoo — one of the biggest in Asia, and it felt like it. We didn't get through all of it. Paul was into the animals up until about two-thirds of the way through, when he decided he was done and made that very clear. We found the Children's Zoo section, which he was briefly excited about before changing his mind about that too.

Visitors gathered along the zoo path near a large sculptural sign

Children's Zoo entrance sign with colorful painted animal murals

That night, one last pass through Ximending. We picked up a few final things, ate dumplings and beef noodle soup from a spot we'd walked past earlier in the trip and kept meaning to try.

A plate of boiled dumplings with a bowl of clear soup

A bowl of Taiwanese beef noodle soup with bok choy and braised beef

We had one more bento box from a spot near the hotel — the kind with pork cutlet, rice, broccoli, corn, tofu, and a soft-boiled egg. Simple. Good. The kind of meal that doesn't feel fancy but leaves you completely satisfied.

A Taiwanese pork katsu bento box divided into compartments with rice, broccoli, tofu, and egg

We walked back with Paul half-asleep in his stroller, one last bubble tea from a street vendor. My husband held the stroller handle while I leaned on his shoulder for a block. It was our anniversary trip and it was nothing like what I would have imagined before Paul, and I wouldn't change a single thing about it.

Us standing together in a Taipei night market street lit up with fairy lights overhead

A few things worth knowing

We did Uber for most of the day trips outside the city. With a stroller and a toddler, it was worth it — no folding, no navigating unfamiliar transfers, no guessing. But the metro inside Taipei was genuinely great, and once we stopped overthinking it, it became our default for getting around the city. The accessibility is real. Elevators, wide gates, no hassle.

Xing Fu Tang's boba is worth every photo you've seen of it. Shifen is worth the early morning. Finders Hotel in Ximending put us in exactly the right spot. And Ovaltine from a Taiwanese 7-Eleven hits different at 11 PM after a full day of walking.

Holding up an Ovaltine can on the way home, on the train

Happy anniversary to us — and to Paul, who was along for all of it.

Second Wedding Anniversary

The anniversary notification popped up on my phone on the 21st and I remember looking down at it, standing somewhere on a street in Taipei, and thinking: yeah, this is a good one.

Wedding Anniversary notification on phone over a decorative manhole cover in Taiwan

1. Our flight left late at night on March 16th, which sounded doable in theory. In practice it meant spending the entire afternoon trying to pack, re-pack, and make sure we hadn't forgotten anything for Paul — while also making sure we hadn't forgotten anything for ourselves. By the time we got to the airport we were already a little frazzled. But we made it.

• Taiwan welcome sign at the airport arrivals hall
• Walking through the arrivals corridor at Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport
• We landed and made our way to Finders Hotel near Taipei Main Station. It was past 2 AM. The lobby had this big geometric deer sculpture that I thought was cool even half-asleep. We checked in, put Paul down, and crashed.

Accommodation

Finders Hotel lobby with geometric white deer sculpture and rustic decor

The next morning — before we'd even properly left the room — my husband was already out cold again, and I was holding a carton of Ovaltine I'd grabbed from a convenience store the night before, scrolling through maps trying to plan the day. I have a photo of exactly this moment. It captures us perfectly.

Ovaltine carton held up in front of a sleeping husband at the hotel on day one

Ximending

Day 1: Ximending

• The first full day started with no plan other than walking. We pointed ourselves toward Ximending and just let the neighborhood take us wherever. The area is basically non-stop — shops on top of shops, billboards stacked up every direction you look, music from storefronts, and people everywhere. Paul was wide-eyed the whole time.
• Ximending street scene with large colorful billboards and advertisements

My husband immediately went into full navigator mode — phone out, checking the map, already making mental notes about where to stop next. He looked very at home in this city. He always does.

Husband standing in Ximending checking his phone with the busy street behind him

I stepped off the curb onto the rainbow crosswalk and made him take a photo. He obliged without me even having to ask. We've been together long enough that he just knows.

Standing on the rainbow-painted crosswalk in Ximending on day one

Wide shot of the Ximending rainbow crosswalk with city buildings behind

The first real stop was Xing Fu Tang — brown sugar milk tea, the kind with those big boba pearls. It was exactly as good as I'd heard. I held it up for the photo because obviously.

Xing Fu Tang

Holding up an Xing Fu Tang brown sugar milk tea cup in Ximending

Then xiao long bao from their sister spot, Xing Fu Tang Xiao Long Bao. Five little soup dumplings in a white ceramic bowl. My husband ate his in about thirty seconds. We sat with Paul in his stroller and just took a minute to actually breathe and enjoy it.

Outside the Xing Fu Tang Xiao Long Bao restaurant storefront

We walked the graffiti-covered alleys near Ximending — walls completely covered in stickers and tags, layered over and over like the whole city had been signing its name there for years. I kind of loved it.

A wall completely covered in graffiti tags and stickers in a Ximending alley

Fried chicken from Jiguang Fried Chicken was next. A stop that needed no debate. We ate standing outside the shop while Paul watched the street.

Jiguang Fried Chicken restaurant storefront in Taipei

Before we headed back, we found FOTOLAB — this little booth that prints your photos as a newspaper front page. We did it. They used a photo of us from earlier in the day: me, my husband, and Paul in his stroller, walking through the streets of Ximending. The headline was something dramatic in Chinese that I could only partially read. It felt like a proper souvenir.

Husband pointing at the FOTOLAB Ximending newspaper souvenir outside the booth

The FOTOLAB newspaper print of our family, laid on a bed at the hotel

That evening the area came alive differently. Lights everywhere, more people, and street performers had taken over the open square. We watched a guy doing a handstand routine on a metal pole — fully inverted, no harness, no net — and we both just stood there with our mouths open.

Street performer doing an upside-down pole act at night in Ximending

We ended the night walking the main stretch with Paul in the stroller, me behind him, both of us slow and tired in the best way. The kind of tired that only happens when the day was actually full.

Pushing Paul's stroller through Ximending at night with lights and crowds in the background

Shifen

Day 2: Shifen, street food, and a surprise train

We got up early and took an Uber to Shifen Old Street for the sky lanterns. The road there winds through the mountains and by the time you arrive, the whole town feels a little out of time — old train tracks running right through the middle of the street, paper lanterns hanging everywhere, and vendors setting up for the day.

We bought a lantern and wrote our wishes on the four sides. My husband wrote something for Paul. I wrote something I'm keeping to myself. We lit it, watched it rise above the treetops, and I held it together right up until I couldn't.

Then, as if on cue, a train came rolling down the tracks through the middle of the old street. Tourists scattered, stroller and all. Paul was completely unbothered and reached out like he wanted to touch it. We did not let him touch it.

Street food came next — peanut ice cream rolls, sausage, and stuffed chicken wings that my husband has mentioned to at least three separate people since we got home. We walked slowly. Bought stickers, a small toy for Paul. Did the whole thing right.

That evening back in Taipei we found a ramen spot and sat down properly for the first time all day. Tonkotsu broth, thick with the kind of richness that takes hours. A soft egg. Nori. A bowl of sides. Paul fell asleep in the stroller mid-meal and we had a quiet dinner together while the restaurant hummed around us.

Ramen

A bowl of rich tonkotsu ramen with a soft egg, nori, and green onions

The full ramen spread at the table with extra sides and a side bowl

We grabbed an Ovaltine can from a convenience store on the way home, because we'd been doing that almost every day and it became a thing.

Holding an Ovaltine can on the train

Day 3: Taipei 101 and the metro we should have taken sooner

Day three we finally got on the metro and I genuinely wished we'd done it from the start. It's clean, easy to navigate, fast, and cheap in a way that still surprises me when I think about it. There were lifts at every station we used. The gates were wide enough for the stroller. Nobody looked at us funny. It just worked.

Holding Paul on my lap on the Taipei metro, both of us looking at the camera

Husband standing and smiling on the metro with the stroller at his feet

We went to Taipei 101. We stood outside and looked up at it for a while before doing anything else. It's one of those buildings that photos don't fully prepare you for.

Husband posing in front of Taipei 101 looking up at the tower

The mall below it is connected and sprawling. I found a good spot between some trees near the glass facade and made my husband take a photo. The light was nice and I was wearing my blazer and I looked like I had my life together, which felt like an achievement after three days of stroller logistics.

Posing between trees outside the Taipei 101 mall area in a black blazer and sunglasses

The original plan was Din Tai Fung, but the line was long and Paul was not in a patient mood. We found something else nearby and ate well. No regrets. We also walked past Hooters Taipei of all places, and my husband insisted we stop for a photo with Paul. Our son, wearing his little white outfit, looked completely unbothered about being held up in front of a Hooters sign.

Husband holding Paul in front of the Hooters sign in Taipei, both looking relaxed

We sat at one of the outdoor areas near Taipei 101, drank something cold, and did nothing for a little bit. That felt like a small luxury.

Holding up a cylindrical drink cup from a Taipei tea shop

Day 4: Gondola, zoo, and last look at Ximending

Last full day. We took the metro to the Maokong Gondola — the gondola goes up into the forested hills and the views on the way up were worth it. Paul was very much awake and very much interested in the moving cable car.

At the top there's a cluster of tea houses and small spots to sit. We got cold drinks and sat outside with the mountains around us, doing nothing particular. It's the kind of spot where you don't feel rushed. We stayed longer than we planned.

Holding up an orange drink with a cute bear sticker at an outdoor spot in Maokong with green hills in the background

Then down to Taipei Zoo — one of the biggest in Asia, and it felt like it. We didn't get through all of it. Paul was into the animals up until about two-thirds of the way through, when he decided he was done and made that very clear. We found the Children's Zoo section, which he was briefly excited about before changing his mind about that too.

Visitors gathered along the zoo path near a large sculptural sign

Children's Zoo entrance sign with colorful painted animal murals

That night, one last pass through Ximending. We picked up a few final things, ate dumplings and beef noodle soup from a spot we'd walked past earlier in the trip and kept meaning to try.

A plate of boiled dumplings with a bowl of clear soup

A bowl of Taiwanese beef noodle soup with bok choy and braised beef

We had one more bento box from a spot near the hotel — the kind with pork cutlet, rice, broccoli, corn, tofu, and a soft-boiled egg. Simple. Good. The kind of meal that doesn't feel fancy but leaves you completely satisfied.

A Taiwanese pork katsu bento box divided into compartments with rice, broccoli, tofu, and egg

We walked back with Paul half-asleep in his stroller, one last bubble tea from a street vendor. My husband held the stroller handle while I leaned on his shoulder for a block. It was our anniversary trip and it was nothing like what I would have imagined before Paul, and I wouldn't change a single thing about it.

Us standing together in a Taipei night market street lit up with fairy lights overhead

A few things worth knowing

We did Uber for most of the day trips outside the city. With a stroller and a toddler, it was worth it — no folding, no navigating unfamiliar transfers, no guessing. But the metro inside Taipei was genuinely great, and once we stopped overthinking it, it became our default for getting around the city. The accessibility is real. Elevators, wide gates, no hassle.

Xing Fu Tang's boba is worth every photo you've seen of it. Shifen is worth the early morning. Finders Hotel in Ximending put us in exactly the right spot. And Ovaltine from a Taiwanese 7-Eleven hits different at 11 PM after a full day of walking.

Holding up an Ovaltine can on the way home, on the train

Happy anniversary to us — and to Paul, who was along for all of it.