Easier than my transition into pregnancy, that’s for sure. I had looked forward to carrying a child for years before I was ready to be a mother and was surprised to find myself ill at ease in a medically textbook pregnancy. I couldn’t stop asking myself “Why wasn’t I enjoying this thing I’d looked forward to more?”

By contrast, becoming my daughter’s mother felt - if not easy - natural. I couldn’t believe she was here, and she’d been here forever. A tiny stranger, a teacher, an old friend. I worried about how I would come back to myself after her birth, but my life feels more spacious with her in it.

The waiting for her birth - I was nearly 2 weeks overdue. The healing process after birth. I am constitutionally incapable of stillness and expected to struggle more with postpartum rest. I surprised myself by moving slowly, eating heavy, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.

In no particular order: her first smiles and laughs, every time she meets an important person in our lives, dipping her toes in the Pacific Ocean, watching her eyes widen every time she sees a new landscape. This stage of parenthood is some alchemical combination of mundane and holy.

Mostly, I feel more capable than ever. As a little girl (and later a young adult), I remember feeling amazed by all the problems my mom could solve. Can’t open this jar? Airline won’t reimburse you for a canceled flight? Broke your own heart? Stick mom on the case. And now that I’m a mom? I still believe my own mother is magic, but I get it: stick me on the case.

In other ways, I feel more vulnerable than ever. I think every day and cry at least a couple of times a week about the passage of time (at six months, I tearfully told my husband she was 1/36th through her childhood with us) and how our futures are so fragile and unpromised.

I was floored by: how exhausting and complicated feeding an infant can be, how beautifully friends and acquaintances supported our family in the months after Uma’s birth, my postpartum rage, how my priorities rearranged themselves around her without much drama.

I envision The Den as an essential haven for connection and support through the hard times.

It’s also a place for us to celebrate, laugh and connect. As a doctor, I’m excited to educate and support women through fertility, pregnancy, and postpartum challenges.