How do I get my motivation back as a new mom?

Question from Rox B., 36, Guadalajara, Mexico. Mom to 6-month old baby girl, Melissa.

Before becoming a mom, Rox was creative, organized, and driven — but now she struggles to even get through the day. She misses her spark and feels guilty for not feeling excited about anything besides sleep and coffee.

Mama, 

I know that feeling. The one where the highlight of your day is a hot coffee — if you're lucky — and the most ambitious thing you dream about is five uninterrupted minutes in the shower.

Before my twins, I was super driven. I made lists. I crushed to-dos. I had ideas. Now? I’ve stared at the same laundry pile for two days and it still hasn’t folded itself. And I used to care. Now I just… don’t. Not because I don’t want to — but because I don’t have anything left to give.

And I want you to know:
That doesn’t make you broken.
That makes you postpartum.

It’s wild, isn’t it?

How everyone talks about “bouncing back” like your body and brain are just going to click back into place like Legos. But no one tells you that sometimes, your spark — your fire, your energy, your ambition — goes dim for a while.

It doesn’t mean it’s gone.
It means it’s resting.
You’re in survival mode, mama. And that’s a mode that deserves respect, not shame.

You don’t need a morning routine or a side hustle or a new planner right now.

You need grace. You need sleep. You need someone to hold your baby while you remember who you are outside of milk stains and baby cries.

And if you can’t remember yet? That’s okay.
You will.

Because one day — maybe not today, maybe not even next week — you’ll take a sip of coffee and feel something flicker again. A thought. A want. A “what if?” You’ll have the energy to finish a book, or open your laptop just because, or put on mascara and feel a little fire crackle back to life.

And when that happens, don’t rush it. Don’t pressure it. Just say: “Oh. There I am.”

Until then?
Celebrate the coffee.
And know that your motivation isn’t gone — it’s just buried under a mountain of new mom everything.

You’re not failing. You’re healing.

Love,
Lina P.