Notes From The Field: Reflections on Motherhood So Far
I’m sitting in the backyard of our house in Tuscany, our home for the next three months.
We spent the first half of the year in Austria, where I gave birth to our beautiful daughter. It was the perfect bubble for this new chapter—surrounded by loving family and friends, with a support system I trusted: hospital, midwife, physio, osteopath, pediatrician etc. I felt safe and cared for. It was balm for the soul to be in my comfort zone—something not very common for me—and to have love and support so close.
We made this choice intentionally. We left a place we had only recently moved to (London), because it didn’t feel right for this particular season of life. And now, as we transition again—this time to Italy—I feel us slowly opening up to the world outside our cozy baby bubble, rediscovering life as a new family of three.
We’ve chosen to spend the first season of parenthood near family, split between Austria and Italy. It’s a decision we made both for the support it offers us and for the joy it brings our families to meet their granddaughter. I didn't anticipate just how much of an impact this choice would have on my time—or how much I’d rethink how I relate to it.
Before becoming a mother, my days were almost entirely my own. Sure, I have client calls and projects, but I had the freedom to shape my schedule. Now, with a high-contact baby who only naps when walked and needs to be fed or entertained, I have maybe 1–2 hours a day—on a good day—that are “mine”. And that small window has completely changed the way I value and invest my time.
Invest your time, don’t spend it.
This quote rings more true than ever.
These days, I ask myself daily: What’s the best use of these precious 60 minutes?, rather than randomly doing some (if we’re honest) quite meaningless tasks. Before giving birth, I defined 3 buckets that I want to invest into in the coming months, and every free minute that I have, I want to put towards those buckets (unless I just wanna nap just not thinking about anything or just hang in the sun). Sometimes the answer is sleep, yoga or a long shower. Other times it’s opening my laptop and writing, checking in with a client, or making progress on the Out of Office projects I’m working on (a new course + our Field Trips platform). I’ve never been more clear on what matters. Saying no has never felt easier. If I don’t really want to spend time on something, I don’t. And that feels SO powerful.
During the second half of my pregnancy, I felt wildly energized—like I had tapped into a deep feminine power. I built and launched a new product for Out of Office with my Field Trips partner, Terry, something that had lived in the back of my mind and on Figma boards for months. That pregnancy window of momentum gave me energy to pre-work and get things ready for the launch, and make space to slow down postpartum—and I’m so grateful for that.
Now, I’m experimenting again. With time. With identity. With a new rhythm.
I’m not working full-time. I’m not not working either. I’m redefining what my version of work and motherhood looks like right now. Most people I know either go back to work full-time after a few months, or they run their own business and never get a real break because they have to keep things afloat. I’m trying something different. I’m intentionally building a path in between. Some days I work for an hour. Some days not at all. Some weeks I might host a live session or a workshop, like I will next month for a Design org I’m really excited about. And then maybe I’ll take another month fully offline, travel with my family, and come back to a new Out of Office cohort and projects in the fall.
It’s all an experiment. And I’m giving myself permission to change my mind.
The biggest shift isn’t just in how I spend my time, but how that time shapes how I see myself.
Because how we spend our days is how we perceive ourselves. And when only one hour of the day resembles the "old me”—the one who writes, explores new places, puts things out into the world, connects with inspiring people, moves her body—there’s an identity reckoning happening too. I recently said, “I feel like a full-time mom,” and didn’t mean that in a good way—not because I judge that role, but because I wasn’t engaging with the parts of myself I’ve always found purpose in.
So this is what the coming months will be about, I think. Being with this most precious human who’s cracked open a new level of love I didn’t know was possible, enjoying the cuddles, play time, her looks, her milk-drunk face and stretches, the smiles and daily new things she’s exploring (I could spam you with a million photos and videos right now) — and at the same time, finding a way to integrate that with my “old self”, weaving back in the things I also love, sitting in the evening light or morning sun or cafe and writing, conversations that expand my thinking, putting things out there, feeling strong and good in my body, and building the next evolution of Out of Office.
I’m not behind. (as my friend Anique highlighted in this recording)
I’m not late.
I’m exactly where I need to be.
And I hope we’ll keep having more honest conversations about how many different versions of working and living are possible—especially in this season of life.
Thanks for reading and if you’re a mom too, I’m curious how you navigate this journey!
Alice
Beautiful words Alice, I really resonate with the feeling the need to connect with the parts of “old you” (though I don’t love that phrase) that inspire and drive you, for me it’s a different kind of purpose to my purpose as a mother and both are vital to nurture.
2 years in to parenthood I find these pockets of time continue to expand - first contact naps turned into naps in the pram, then a few hours at childcare, now I’ve spent weekends away with friends etc. But that feeling of wanting to invest my time spent away from my son clearly a with intention (on rest, or work, or play) has not left me. It’s an incredible and unexpected gift of parenthood for me :)