Motherhood Broke Me. And Helped Me Find Myself Again.
I knew motherhood would change me.
I just didn’t know it would break me open, rearrange every piece of who I was, sprinkle the fragments across the living room floor between burp cloths and stale coffee cups, and then say:
“Good luck putting that back together.”
Becoming a mom wasn’t just a season of change. It was a full demolition and unexpected rebuild… with no blueprint.
☕ Embracing Motherhood: A Hilarious Journey
Becoming a mother is like stepping into a never-ending game of jigsaw puzzles.
Except the pieces change shape every five minutes.
And someone keeps stealing the corner pieces.
Just when you think you’ve figured something out — bam! Life hands you a new piece that looks suspiciously like a toy dinosaur covered in peanut butter.
You’ll be surrounded by:
mismatched socks,
half-eaten fruit snacks,
A soiled diaper that everyone claims was "right here just a moment ago."
Meanwhile you’re trying to piece together your sanity like:
“Best of luck playing jigsaw with that mess!”
And every time you think you’ve finally completed the picture?
Your toddler strolls over…
…and destroys it.
Laughing hysterically.
Motherhood: The Ultimate Puzzle Challenge
Step 1: Accept that you will never have all the pieces.
Step 2: Embrace chaos as an art form.
Step 3: Celebrate tiny victories — like one single pea eaten voluntarily.
Step 4: The missing piece is always in the one place you would never look: the dogs mouth
And before I get into the emotions, the postpartum depression, the resentment, the healing — I need to give you the backstory. Because motherhood is rarely just about becoming a mom. It’s about the little girl who became the mother.
👧 The Oldest Daughter Starter Pack
I am the oldest daughter of three girls. Which means:
I didn’t ask to be in charge… I just was.
“Can you keep an eye on them?” was basically my childhood.
I was Parent #2, but without the authority or the paycheck.
Growing up, I wasn’t just a sibling. I was a third parent. Free labor with no benefits package.
My parents divorced when I was young — messy and painful. And while my sisters were too little to grasp the magnitude, I understood. I watched my mom struggle to keep the lights on and hold herself together at the same time. I watched my dad crumble when custody changed.
Two adults I loved. Two hearts breaking in real time. And me — eight years old — thinking:
“Okay. I’ll be strong then.”
That’s the moment my “mothering instincts” were born. Not from dolls or playing house…but from necessity.
And that shapes you.
Looking back now, I can see God in that moment. Not asking me to carry the burden forever, but preparing me for a heart that nurtures deeply.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”— Psalm 34:18
I didn’t know then, but He was close to me too.
When you grow up being the helper, the fixer, the one who has it “together,” you enter motherhood believing that’s your role forever.
Strong. Capable. Unshakable. (Ha. Adorable.)
🌪️ Fast forward: The part where I run(should this be ran?? past tense) to North Dakota (yes, willingly)
After high school, life shook itself again.
My family moved to Texas. I moved to North Dakota.
If you’ve never been to North Dakota, imagine a frozen tundra (minus the Packers) where Target is a recreational outing and your social life revolves around “Who has a snowblower?”
Suddenly, I wasn’t needed. No sisters to take care of. No chaos to manage.
Just me.
I bought a dog — naturally. But even a dog cannot fill the void of an identity built on caregiving.
I was in a long-term relationship, and every time we talked about the future and starting a family, something inside me felt wrong.
Spoiler: he wasn’t my forever.
Eventually, I moved back to Wisconsin — just me and my emotional support dog — and hit reset.
And even in that loneliness, God was softening and reshaping my heart.
“He restores my soul; he guides me along the right paths for his name's sake.”— Psalm 23:3
❤️ The Part Where God Hands Me Sam
During that season of healing, rebuilding, and figuring out who I was without being needed…
I met Sam.
The kindest, most solid man with a faith that could move mountains and a heart big enough to hold mine.
He made me laugh.
He made me feel safe.
He let me be me.
Looking back, I know God didn’t just place Sam in my life —
He prepared me to receive the kind of love Sam offered.
We got engaged.
We got married.
We got pregnant. (Well… I got pregnant. Can we stop saying “we’re pregnant”? Sir, you just contributed a tablespoon of DNA and now you’re eating ice cream while I’m growing a whole organ.)
But I was thrilled.
My dream of becoming a mother — finally real.
👶 The Birth of Ezra — and the Birth of My Silence
Everyone talks about that moment after birth. The crying. The instant love. The light bursting through the hospital windows.
My moment?
…nothing.
I held my baby boy, and while I knew I loved him, I didn’t feel it.
Instead of joy, there was a hollowness I didn’t expect. And guilt swallowed me whole.
“What kind of mother doesn’t feel connected?” “What is wrong with me?”
But I kept quiet. Because mothers are supposed to glow, not grieve the loss of who they used to be.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”— Psalm 46:10
I wasn’t still.
I was spiraling.
But He stayed.
🍼 Welcome to Postpartum Depression (the uninvited roommate)
When maternity leave ended, the unraveling really began.
I went back to work thinking:
“This will feel good. I’ll be myself again.”
Wrong.
I was caught between two worlds:
At work, I felt guilty for being away.
At home, I felt trapped and suffocated.
I loved my career. I also desperately wanted to feel bonded with my son(consider different wording...bonded to my son..revise??) . I wanted things to be easy again — like before motherhood rearranged my DNA.
Meanwhile, Sam still had hobbies. He hunted. He fished.
I stayed home.
And even though nothing was “wrong,” everything felt unfair.
We didn’t communicate. We just kept moving.
Since motherhood isolated me and I had no close friends or family nearby, I clung to the only familiar thing that made me feel like me…
…going out drinking.
Nothing says postpartum crisis like coming home at 2AM smelling like tequila and regret.
Sam was frustrated. I was resentful. We were two separate islands connected only by a baby monitor.
And if you’ve never cried quietly on the bathroom floor so no one hears…
you haven’t reached peak mom sadness yet.
But even then, God heard.
“From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”— Psalm 61:2
📉 The Lowest Point
My hobbies vanished. I was exhausted. I was failing at work. Everything felt heavy.
And the darkest thought kept whispering:
“You’re losing everything — including yourself.”
It took two years before things leveled again. Two years of resentment. Two years of silence. Two years of both of us trying to hold our heads above water without admitting we were drowning.
Then, finally, we talked.
We said the things we were too scared to say before. We apologized. We listened.
Healing began with honesty.
🌱 The Reconnection
I rediscovered reading — something I could do while still being present.
Ezra and I connected. Slowly at first. Then completely.
Motherhood started to make sense.
And then…
I got pregnant again.
Because life has a sense of humor.
👶 Baby Jovie — The Connection That Broke the Fear
I was excited. But terrified.
“What if the depression comes back?” “What if I don’t connect with this baby either?” “What if I can’t love another the same?”
And then Jovie arrived.
And the connection hit instantly.
It felt like God said,
“Here. Here’s the moment you missed the first time.”
My heart expanded. The joy everyone talks about finally made sense.
☕ The Becoming — Caffeine & Chaos Co.
Motherhood didn’t erase who I was.
It stripped me down to make room for who I could become.
I mourned my past self. I rebuilt my current self. I am creating the future version for my children.
That’s why Caffeinated & Chaos Co. exists.
For the moms who:
love deeply
feel deeply
struggle silently
laugh loudly
and are trying to figure out who they are in the chaos
It’s not just a brand. It’s a community.
“God is within her, she will not fall.” — Psalm 46:5
If you’re here, exhausted and messy and questioning everything…
Pull up a chair. Your coffee might be cold, but you’re warm here.
Stay caffeinated. — K
More about the author:
Hi, I’m Kendra, the heart behind Caffeine & Chaos Co.
I’m a faith-filled wife, mama of two, writer, and creative entrepreneur sharing the unfiltered side of motherhood. Around here, we celebrate grace over perfection, caffeine over sleep, and the everyday reminders that God meets us right in the mess.
☕ Stay caffeinated. Stay rooted. You’re not alone here.
