Our Newest Club Member

There are certain moments in life that split you into a before and after.

June 4th became one of mine.

Our daughter, Daphne Rose, was born and suddenly the entire world went quiet in the most overwhelming, beautiful way. Not literally quiet, of course. There were monitors and nurses and tears and instructions and a newborn cry I will hear in my bones for the rest of my life. But inside me, something softened and something settled.

She was here.

And somehow, after months of anticipation and discomfort and fear and waiting, she already felt like someone I had known forever. This pregnancy carried so much emotion for me.

After having an emergency c-section with Grace, I entered this experience holding both hope and grief at the same time. I think that’s something women rarely talk about honestly. You can be deeply grateful for your children and still carry sadness from how you entered motherhood. You can love your story and still wish parts of it had felt different. I wanted a VBAC so badly. But I tried to hold it loosely in my hands. Realizing I couldn’t be held to one expectation or another.

I wanted it because I needed to feel trust in my body again. I wanted to meet myself differently this time. To not feel like a victim in the birth of my child.

As my due date came and went, I started spiraling a little emotionally. Every morning I woke up still pregnant felt heavier. I walked endlessly. I bounced on the ball. I did the stretches. The curb walking. The miles. I analyzed every cramp and contraction like it might mean something.

I wanted to surrender but I wanted control. I wanted the baby out but I wanted more time.

And then, during an appointment, my water broke.

I still can’t explain the feeling. Everything shifted instantly. Fear became real. Excitement became real. I remember looking at Seth thinking, “This is actually happening.”

Labor was long and emotional and incredibly human.

There were moments I felt powerful and moments I completely unraveled. I reached points where I doubted myself entirely. At one point I chose to get the epidural and I remember feeling this wave of relief emotionally more than physically. For the first time, my body stopped fighting itself. I could finally breathe. I could finally rest enough to let her come.

And then suddenly, she did.

Daphne Rose. Tiny and warm and crying on my chest.

I don’t even know how to explain what it feels like to meet your baby. It feels primal. Sacred. Like every version of you arrives in the room together. The little girl you once were. The woman you became. The mother you already are. The mother you’re about to become again.

I looked at her and instantly understood that my heart had somehow made room for another entire universe.

Watching Seth become a father again cracked me open.
Watching Grace meet her baby sister broke my heart open in the best way.

The tenderness of it all feels unbearable sometimes.

I’ve spent the past few days sitting in oversized pajamas with ice packs tucked into every possible location, drinking electrolytes, staring at this tiny sleeping girl wondering how something can feel so fragile and so enormous at the same time.

Motherhood has humbled me more than anything else in my life.

It has also made me softer, stronger, slower.
More certain about what matters.

And honestly, it has shaped MARGO’S in ways I don’t even think people fully realize.

This club was never built around perfection. It was built around women living inside real bodies. Bodies that are hormonal and changing and healing and exhausted and resilient. Bodies that have carried babies. Bodies recovering from loss. Bodies trying to reconnect to themselves.

I think becoming a mother again has only deepened my belief that women deserve gentler wellness spaces. Places where health isn’t punishment. Places where movement supports your life instead of consuming it.

Places where you can arrive exactly as you are.

Right now, I am very much in the middle of becoming again.

I’m healing. I’m overwhelmed. I’m deeply grateful.
I’m learning how to mother two girls. I’m watching Grace become a big sister.
I’m falling in love with Daphne one tiny moment at a time.

And somewhere inside all of this exhaustion, I have this overwhelming feeling that this season is changing me forever in the best possible way.

So please welcome our newest little club member:

Daphne Rose.

She has already mastered contact naps, emotional support nursing, and keeping her mother awake between the hours of 1am and 5am.

A perfect fit for MARGO’S.

Thank you for holding space for me through this season.

Margaret xx