My Second Mother’s Day: The Medicine of Matrescence
A little over a year ago, I was a woman defined by my white coat.
I understood physiology.I understood protocols.I understood how to function in high-stakes environments where decisions had to be made quickly and correctly.
And then I became a mother.
My first Mother’s Day came just days after I gave birth.I was holding my newborn, exhausted, healing, trying to process what had just happened to my body and my life.
At the time, I didn’t have language for what I was experiencing.
Now I do.
It’s called matrescence.
Becoming a Mother Is a Transformation—Not a Role
Matrescence is the transition into motherhood.
Just like adolescence, it’s not just physical.
It’s emotional.Psychological.Spiritual.
It’s a complete reorganization of who you are.
And what I’ve come to understand over this past year is that I didn’t just become a mother.
I became someone new.
Not overnight.
But through a process of being stripped, questioned, stretched, and rebuilt.
Medicine Taught Me to Focus on the Delivery. Not the Woman.
As physicians, we’re trained to focus on outcomes.
The baby is delivered.Vitals are stable.Everyone goes home.
But no one teaches you how to process what happens to the woman.
Because postpartum is not just recovery.
For me, it was unlearning.
Unlearning the idea that I had to keep pushing.Unlearning the belief that my worth is tied to how much I can produce.Unlearning the identity of being the one who holds everything together.
And sitting in that quiet, away from the noise of the hospital, I started to realize something deeper.
I wasn’t just adjusting to motherhood.
I was confronting everything I had been taught to believe about myself.
The “Strong Black Woman” Narrative Started to Break
There’s a story many of us have inherited.
That we endure.That we carry.That we push through.That we don’t stop.
And for a long time, I lived that.
I was high-functioning.Productive.Reliable.
And underneath that?
Tired.
Motherhood didn’t create that exhaustion.
It exposed it.
And for the first time, I had to ask myself:
Who am I if I’m not constantly performing?
Healing Didn’t Look Like What I Was Trained to Recognize
This past year, I started leaning into a different kind of healing.
Not the kind that comes with a prescription.
But the kind that requires presence.
Stillness.Reflection.Listening.
Reconnecting with my body.Paying attention to my nervous system.Questioning what I had accepted as “normal.”
And opening myself up to the idea that healing doesn’t only exist inside of Western medicine.
That there is wisdom in slowing down.In tuning in.In allowing yourself to feel instead of constantly managing.
Motherhood Made Me Choose Softness
Not weakness.
Softness.
The kind of softness that allows you to:
Rest without guiltSay no without over-explainingChoose yourself without justificationBuild a life that actually supports you
And what I started to realize is this:
Choosing softness in my life wasn’t just about me.
It was about what I was modeling.What I was allowing.What I was passing forward.
This Became Bigger Than Me
Because when you shift out of survival mode…
You don’t just change your life.
You interrupt a pattern.
You create a new reference point.
You show what’s possible.
And for me, that looked like:
Building financial sovereigntyProtecting my timeCreating a business that doesn’t require me to be in constant overdriveMaking decisions from alignment, not pressure
Not just because I wanted a different life.
But because I refuse to pass down the belief that exhaustion is the cost of success.
“Motherhood Broke Me Open in the Best Way Possible”
That’s the truth of it.
Motherhood broke me open in the best way possible.
Not because it was easy.
But because it forced me to see.
To slow down.To question.To reconnect.
To meet parts of myself I hadn’t fully acknowledged before.
And in doing that…
I found a deeper sense of purpose than what I had been operating from before.
One that medicine alone couldn’t give me.
My Second Mother’s Day Feels Different
This year, I’m not just holding a newborn.
I’m holding perspective.
I’m looking at my daughter—now one year old—and seeing more than just how much she’s grown.
I see how much I’ve grown.
Not in titles.
Not in achievements.
But in awareness.
In boundaries.In clarity.In how I choose to live.
If You’re in This Season Too…
If you’ve been feeling the shift…
If you’ve been questioning things you used to accept…
If you’re realizing that the way you’ve been living and working doesn’t fully align anymore…
You’re not lost.
You’re in transition.
And that transition?
It’s not here to break you.
It’s here to reveal you.
Continue the Conversation
I’ve been sharing more of this journey—motherhood, identity, healing, and what this next chapter is asking of me—over on Instagram and through my email list.
🌀 Follow along on Instagram: @drkimberlyb
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Final Thought
Not all medicine comes in a vial.
Some of it comes through becoming.