I spent most of my career in tech - building customer success and operations teams, scaling businesses, solving hard problems. I was good at it, and loved it. I knew for a long time that I was meant to do something else. Closer to the harder parts of being human.

I made the shift. I started focusing on building community, working with people through the various challenges, opportunities, and transitions of life - relationship and intimacy, friendships, career. And then I became a mother — and what I thought I understood about transitions got completely recalibrated.

My path to becoming a mom wasn't straightforward. Eighteen months of trying to get pregnant. Ended up doing IVF in Mexico City after poor experiences in the states. Fear and hope cycling on repeat. I was 38. And then - twins. Two identical girls.

My sweet orgasmic home birth story was not sweet, not orgasmic, and not at home. I almost died. I couldn't see one of my babies until her second day of life. What followed was undersupply, thrush, mastitis, C-section recovery, no nanny lined up (because really, how hard could this be?), and a marriage that felt like it was unraveling. I was used to being the person who figured things out, and this was the first time that I was not able to crack it.

Eventually I came out the other side. My relationship is now thriving. I am head over heels in love with motherhood, my family, and my girls. The chaos is still here - sleep regressions, teething, febrile seizures, the childproofing, heart murmur and more - but so is the clarity.

I found myself supporting new moms again and again and again - support set-up, relationships collapses, identity shift, body image issues, the constant guilt and question. This is what I needed, and it didn't exist. Because postpartum deserves more than a checklist, soup, and a sitz bath. The moms I work with are smart, capable, and completely overwhelmed - and what they need and deserve is someone who can actually meet them there.

And that's why I'm here.