If you’re drowning after maternity leave, you’re not alone

What happens when you come back to work and everything has changed

I thought going back to work would be the easy part.

After months of sleep deprivation, reflux, tantrums, and postpartum depression, I was craving something familiar. Something I knew I was good at.

On paper, I had everything going for me. Coming back from my second maternity leave as a newly promoted Director, with a new manager, ready to rejoin a team I cared about. But under the surface, I was barely hanging on.

My baby wasn't sleeping through the night, had a dairy allergy that made feeding stressful, and we were in the thick of introducing solids with a nut allergy scare. Her older sister was struggling too - clingy, emotional, and not interested in sharing me.

And the hardest part? I was not okay. I was angry and sad and couldn't even find the words to ask for help.

I was desperate to return to work for normalcy, not realizing I'd be stretching myself even thinner.

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The transition back was brutal. I felt behind from day one.

My first day back after baby #2

The clock had been ticking on the impact I was expected to make. In the next review cycle, my performance would be measured against peers who hadn't missed a beat. I couldn't shake the feeling that while I'd been home "doing nothing," everyone else had been launching products and crushing goals.

I wanted to hit the ground running, but I was still breastfeeding, still not sleeping, still adjusting to this new version of life with two kids.

Weekends were now double the work, with no breaks. Our daughters' nap schedules didn't align, someone always needed something, and the tiny pockets of alone time I used to get were gone.

My husband and I were both exhausted, trying to adjust to a rhythm where we were somehow always on.

I kept asking other moms with two kids, "When does it get easier?", desperate for someone to tell me it would.

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Compared to many others, I was lucky.

I had six months of leave and worked remotely. Pinterest offered a gradual return month, which I gratefully took. One, two, three, then four days a week until I was full-time again. I used that time to catch up, do a listening tour, and get focused.

But even then, it was clear I was re-entering a world that had moved on without me. People kept saying, "We're so glad you're back!" which at first felt validating. But soon I realized it really meant, "There are a lot of problems and we need you to fix them, fast."

I felt enormous pressure to prove myself. Not just because of the recent promotion, but because of the time I'd been away. I wanted to move quickly, but I also knew I needed space to make smart decisions. It was hard to balance the urgency I felt with the clarity I needed.

When the workday ended, there was no time to decompress. The kids needed me for dinner and bedtime. And by the time they were finally asleep, I was too tired to log back on. But I did anyway, because the fear of falling even further behind was relentless.

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Within a few weeks, I hit a breaking point.

I remember calling my mom, sobbing, and telling her that I felt like I was failing at everything. At work, at home, as a mom. Not to mention trying to preserve some space for myself.

As a senior leader, people looked to me for answers. To show up as calm, steady, and decisive.

But I was still learning how to make faster decisions with minimal context, still trying to develop a point of view on my vision for the product after months of being away. Still rebuilding my confidence on how to do this new bigger role at work with my other new bigger job at home.

Plus, I wasn't getting much feedback, and I took that silence to mean I was underperforming. The truth is, at senior levels, you don't get praise, you get problems to solve. The expectation is that you'll figure it out, mostly on your own.

But without validation, and with so little energy to draw from, it was easy to spiral. I started to wonder if I was doing anything right. If the promotion had been a mistake. If people would finally find out that I was a fraud.

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The real turning point came when I talked to another mom who was "a chapter ahead."

She was also a product leader with two kids, had gone through this, and told me I wasn't crazy. That the hormones were real, that it's normal to feel like you're drowning, and that it really does get better.

Talking with her helped me name what I was feeling and gave me the push I needed to ask for help.

I had a real talk with my manager about how I was doing, told him I needed some positive feedback to validate what was going well, and got clarity on what actually mattered to him and the business. I also started working with a career coach (a fellow mom who was a few chapters ahead) who helped me untangle my mindset from my task list.

At home, my husband and I kept experimenting with ways to carve out real breaks for rest. We started hiring a babysitter for a few hours on the weekends to give us both time to recharge. We took turns doing the morning routine, which gave me time to work out in the mornings. Slowly, I started feeling stronger, physically and emotionally.

And eventually, the baby started sleeping at night more consistently. With more energy, my brain felt fresh and I could think clearly again.

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It took me about 90 days to feel settled in at work. To feel fully caught up on what I'd missed and to have the confidence to make decisions without second-guessing myself.

Now, I hear from so many moms in this same moment. Overwhelmed, exhausted, trying to hold it all together. Not because they don't want to work, but because they weren't prepared for this new reality. Many of them don't have a coworker or friend that's a chapter ahead to help them feel grounded amidst the chaos.

That's why I'm so passionate about sharing my journey. To be the voice that might make a difference between someone holding on instead of stepping back.

So if you're in it, I want you to know: even senior leaders feel like imposters sometimes. It doesn't mean you're not good enough, it means you care.

It will get better. Your confidence will return. And when it does, you'll look back and realize: going back was never the easy part, but you held it together long enough to see just how capable you really are.

Namaste,

Tamara

PS: If this post hit home, you don't have to navigate this transition alone. I'm offering 1:1 and group coaching programs for women exactly in this phase of coming back to work after having kids. If that's you, I'd love to help. Just respond to this email and we'll chat.