What Motherhood Takes From Us (And What It Gives Back)

The lessons we shy away from discussing are often the very ones that deserve the most attention.

As a mother, wife, daughter, sister, employee, and friend, I’ve come to realize that one of the most significant lessons worth exploring is what motherhood demands from us and, in many ways, what it takes from us.

Recently, I read an interview featuring Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, where she reflected on the pause that accompanied pregnancy and motherhood, leading to an unplanned gap between her novels. One particular quote stopped me in my tracks:

“I had many years in which I felt cast out from my creative self, cast out from the part of me that imagines and creates; I just could not reach it.”

Reading those words felt as though someone had reached into the fog of motherhood and illuminated something I had been struggling to name. It revealed a truth I had experienced deeply but never quite found the language to express.

I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. I’ve lived it. And if you’re a mother, there’s a good chance you have too.

We’ve all heard women say they’re trying to find themselves again. They talk about losing their spark, their direction, their ambition, or even their sense of purpose. What’s striking is that these feelings don’t only affect women who resisted motherhood or struggled with the transition. Often, they arise in women who wholeheartedly embraced motherhood and allowed themselves to be immersed in it.

Motherhood has a way of calling, drawing, directing, and reshaping us in ways that can only be understood through experience.

As a visual reminder of this, flamingos lose their vibrant pink color while raising their young. Their bodies redirect vital nutrients to nurture and sustain their offspring. In many ways, motherhood feels similar. It requires a continual outpouring of ourselves.

And yet, despite all that motherhood takes, I can honestly say I’ve never felt more motivated or intentional in my pursuits than I do now.

The gift motherhood has given me is clarity.

It has stripped away much of the unnecessary noise and helped me focus on what truly matters. At the end of the day, we all have the same twenty-four hours. Learning how to steward that time wisely, to invest it intentionally, and to let go of what doesn’t add value to our lives may be one of the greatest forms of success.

Before motherhood, it was easier to stretch myself in every direction. I could say yes to almost everything, filling my schedule with opportunities, projects, commitments, and distractions.

But motherhood changes your relationship with time.

Not only because you witness how quickly your children grow, but because you’re suddenly aware of how fleeting each day really is. You begin to understand what people mean when they say that time is our most precious commodity.

Much like sleep, once time is gone, it cannot be recovered.

You simply move forward knowing that every minute and every hour matters.

If anything, motherhood has redirected my attention and ambitions in ways I may not have been brave enough to pursue before.

Now my children are watching.

I want the choices I make each day to communicate something important to them: that they are capable of great things because of the One who lives within them. I never want them to believe they are limited by circumstances or defined by the challenges they face.

More than anything, I want them to know that before I knew them, before they were formed in my womb, they were already known by the God who breathed life into them.

As Scripture reminds us:

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you.”Jeremiah 1:5

Their story did not begin at birth, and their purpose did not begin when they entered this world. They were created with intention, known in advance, and set apart with purpose.

While our time here is limited, we are not without vision.

We are not without calling.

And I never want my children to mistake the rugged push and pull of everyday life for the entirety of what they are capable of becoming.

All of that brings me to this:

I think I’m finally getting my creativity back.

And it feels wonderful.

Motherhood, combined with the daily demands of work and life, undoubtedly drained much of it for a season. But now it’s returning with a fierce intensity that seems to demand expression. Ideas are flowing again. The desire to create has resurfaced.

It feels like a deep exhale.

Not because motherhood is taking less from me, but because I’ve learned that seasons of pouring out are often followed by seasons of renewal.

And after feeling disconnected from that part of myself for so long, I can honestly say: It’s good to be back.