Twelve months ago, I became a first-time mom in my forties. Like most new mothers, I thought I had some idea of what the first year would hold. I certainly read enough books, asked enough questions to try to prepare for all the unknowns. Perhaps that’s why you’re reading this article right now — to prepare yourself in whatever way you can, or affirm all the feels that go along with being a mother. The truth is, nothing can fully prepare you for the way motherhood reshapes your body, your identity, and your daily rhythms.
“Twelve months ago, I became a first-time mom in my forties.”
As a functional medicine doctor and family physician, I’ve spent years studying how the body heals, adapts, and thrives. I’ll admit I thought this might give me an advantage, and in some ways, it did. But experiencing it firsthand through pregnancy, birth, and this first year of motherhood in my forties gave me a whole new respect for what our bodies can do, even when they feel unfamiliar or stretched beyond what we thought was possible.
Here are the lessons my body taught me in my first year of motherhood.
Healing takes its own time
In the last weeks of pregnancy, my ankles were so swollen that I couldn’t wait for the day they’d return to normal. And if I’m honest, it wasn’t just my ankles I was excited to see bounce back, if you catch my drift. As women, no matter how body-positive we try to be, it’s easy to slip into comparison or a grass-is-greener mentality, forgetting that part of the process is being present with where we’re at. Well guess what? Having a newborn is the ultimate crash course in presence.
“Having a newborn is the ultimate crash course in presence.”
In those early postpartum weeks, I had to remind myself daily that healing isn’t something you can schedule or rush. Yes, my ankles went back to normal. Muscles I hadn’t thought about in years had to rebuild. Even now, a year later, I’m still noticing subtle shifts: my core strength still returning, my cycle recalibrating, my energy finding a new rhythm.
Birth is transformative on every level: physical, emotional, spiritual. And what motherhood taught me is that the body’s timeline rarely matches the one we picture in our heads. That’s okay. Healing isn’t linear, and it isn’t only physical.
“Healing isn’t linear, and it isn’t only physical.”
Some advice I often give patients, and that I had to give myself this year, is this: Caring for your body isn’t just about how you feel or look today. It’s also about investing in future you. The habits you build — sleep, movement, nourishment, stress care — lay the groundwork for hormone health, metabolic stability, and longevity in the years ahead. Twelve months in, I’m so grateful for the small choices I made back in months two and three… the ones I almost talked myself out of.
Takeaway: Give your body permission to heal on its own clock. Progress may be slow, but slow is not the same as stuck.
Circadian rhythms matter (for both of us)
I think most new moms will tell you that you’ll be tired, but by some miracle you’re able to get through the nights that blur into days and the patchwork of naps that definitely don’t lead to an REM cycle. Somehow, you just get through it. In my case, I put my functional medicine knowledge to use and focused on circadian rhythms.
Yes, I know what you’re thinking… babies are unpredictable, and they do not follow the rules of sunrise and sunset. And, you’d be right. Babies aren’t born with a circadian rhythm — it has to be trained. And here’s the thing: While I was helping Koa find his rhythm, I realized I was retraining mine too.
“While I was helping Koa find his rhythm, I realized I was retraining mine too.”
Research shows that light exposure, meal timing, and consistent routines help reset our internal clocks. For us, that looked like stepping outside in the morning, dimming lights at night, using red light nightlights, anchoring naps and feeds around similar times, and creating little rituals before bed together. As his rhythm started to settle, mine did too. My energy steadied, my mood lifted, and I felt more human again. A year in, the routine feels easier and we’re all sleeping more, though it’s far from perfect — and that’s okay. Stressing over a rigid schedule usually does more harm than good.
Takeaway: Training your baby’s circadian rhythm also trains your own. Simple habits like morning sunlight, dim evenings, and predictable routines don’t just help your little one sleep better — they give you back a sense of balance, too.
My body is capable of more than I ever imagined
Becoming a mom changes how you see your body in ways no book can prepare you for. For me, it wasn’t just about the shifts of pregnancy and postpartum recovery — it was also shaped by my history of breast cancer and my struggles with fertility. I carried a lot into this season: the shame and frustration of my body not doing what it was “supposed” to do, and the sense of betrayal that can come with disease. I think most women can relate to having a complicated relationship with their bodies, and pregnancy can hold an opportunity to rewrite some of the stories that no longer serve us.
“Most women can relate to having a complicated relationship with their bodies, and pregnancy can hold an opportunity to rewrite some of the stories that no longer serve us.”
What I discovered surprised me. Yes, my body carries scars. Yes, there are limitations. But it also carried me through pregnancy, birth, and into an alternate form of breastfeeding — something I once thought cancer had taken away from me. That experience gave me a whole new respect for my body’s strength and resilience.
At the same time, my postpartum body felt foreign. The shape was different, my clothes fit differently, and my reflection sometimes caught me off guard. I had to learn how to hold two truths at once: deep gratitude for my body’s resilience, and a gentle releasing of the body I once knew.
Takeaway: Gratitude and unfamiliarity can coexist. Let your body surprise you with its resilience, even if it looks and feels different than before.
Work, boundaries, and balance are a moving target
Before motherhood, I thought balance meant finding the perfect system. Now I see it more like a dance, constantly adjusting and re-centering. Some days the rhythm leans toward work, other days toward family, and plenty of days toward basic survival. Over the past 12 months, the biggest skill I’ve had to practice is being present with what’s in front of me instead of scattering my energy everywhere — which is no small feat when your main priority suddenly becomes another person, not just yourself.
“Boundaries don’t need to be rigid. They’re about creating space for what matters in this season and giving yourself permission to let the rest go.”
What’s made the biggest difference is a simple but powerful thing: boundaries. Closing the laptop when it’s time. Saying no to commitments that drain me. Reminding myself that presence matters more than productivity. That people want to feel your energy, not just see you in the room. Research even shows that multitasking ramps up stress and lowers efficiency, and I’ve felt that truth more than ever as a mom.
I’ve also learned that boundaries don’t need to be rigid. They’re about creating space for what matters in this season and giving yourself permission to let the rest go.
Takeaway: Boundaries aren’t walls. They’re flexible guardrails that help you find steadiness in an ever-shifting season.
The small things aren’t small
There’s a quiet kind of survival in new motherhood that no one warns you about. It’s not the big milestones that get you through the hardest days, it’s the tiny acts that seem almost too simple to matter. A hot shower. A walk outside. Ten minutes of stillness. Eating a meal before it gets cold.
These moments might not look impressive, but they change everything. They regulate blood sugar, calm the nervous system, lower stress hormones, and remind you that you’re still a person in the midst of caring for another. Over time, those “small” rituals stacked up into the resilience I needed to navigate the adventure that is being a boy mom.
Takeaway: The smallest choices often have the biggest ripple effects. Don’t discount them — they’re what carry you forward.
Presence over perfection
It’s definitely a cliche, but I’ll be the millionth person to confirm that it does go by so fast. Twelve months in, what I know for sure is this: Motherhood is less about doing it “right” and more about learning to honor the body you have, the season you’re in, and the small choices that add up over time. My first year as a mom has been humbling, beautiful, exhausting, and deeply transformative. It stretched me in ways I didn’t expect and gave me a new reverence for what our bodies and hearts are capable of.
“Motherhood is less about doing it ‘right’ and more about learning to honor the body you have, the season you’re in, and the small choices that add up over time.”
If you’re somewhere in the middle of your own first year, I hope this reminds you that there’s no “getting it right.” Presence matters more than perfection. And whether it’s a nap, a boundary, a walk in the sun, or simply noticing the taste of your food, those choices are not small — they’re the foundation of resilience.
Motherhood will keep reshaping me in the years ahead, I’m sure. For now, I’m grateful for the lessons this first year has given me and for the woman it has helped me become.
Dr. Jaclyn Tolentino is a Board-Certified Family Physician and the Lead Functional Medicine Physician at Love.Life. Specializing in women’s health and hormone optimization, she has been featured in Vogue, The Wall Street Journal, and Women’s Health. As a functional practitioner and a breast cancer survivor, Dr. Tolentino is dedicated to uncovering the root causes of health challenges, employing a holistic, whole-person approach to empower lasting wellbeing. Follow her on Instagram here for more insights.
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