In My Darkest Postpartum Days, a Nurse Told Me This - And It Changed Everything

In My Darkest Postpartum Days, a Nurse Told Me This - And It Changed Everything

The other day, after a slow Yin yoga class and a few quiet minutes of meditation, I reached for the small affirmation card resting at the foot of my mat. On it was the image of a baby penguin, head tilted toward the mountain ahead, its tiny feet pressing steadily into the snow. The words beneath read: take tiny steps forward.

I don’t know why, but in that moment, I felt seen. Isn’t that how life so often feels? We look at the mountain of our ambitions or the weight of our healing and wonder how we’ll ever make it to the top. And yet, that little penguin reminded me: progress is rarely about heroic leaps. More often, it’s about the courage to take one gentle step, then another.

Rethinking How We Move Toward Our Goals

For years, I approached goals like a sprint. I thought the only way to succeed was to overhaul everything at once-big gestures, big outcomes. But life has a way of undoing us, of showing us our fragility and our limits. Motherhood taught me this most profoundly, but I think the lesson is universal: sometimes the bravest thing we can do is scale back and begin again, slowly.

Healing, growth, ambition-it all feels less intimidating when we stop measuring the distance to the peak and simply commit to today’s step. Maybe it’s updating one line of your résumé. Maybe it’s making that overdue phone call. Maybe it’s drinking a glass of water or getting out of bed and taking a shower because that’s all you have in you right now.

I remember in those early postpartum months, when I was mentally, emotionally and physically struggling and admitted to the perinatal unit with my son, one of the nurses looked at me gently and said: we’re taking it hour by hour. My goals for the day were stripped right back to the basics-eat, drink, and sleep. That was it. And even those felt monumental at times. But it taught me something I’ll never forget: when life feels unbearably heavy, healing doesn’t come from pushing harder. It comes from taking the tiniest, most essential steps, and allowing them to be enough. It’s in those small, almost imperceptible choices that resilience is quietly built.

The Philosophy of Baby Steps

There’s a tenderness in this way of moving through life. Tiny steps whisper, you don’t have to have it all figured out today. They remind us that our worth isn’t measured by how quickly we climb, but by our willingness to keep showing up, gently, consistently.

And here’s the truth: small steps create their own kind of momentum. Each one is like a thread woven into a tapestry of progress. You don’t always notice it in the moment, but one day you look back and see how far you’ve come-and how much strength you’ve gathered along the way.

Finding Grace in the Process

I think what struck me most about that baby penguin was not its determination, but its gentleness. It wasn’t trying to conquer the mountain in one bound. It was simply trusting that small movements forward were enough.

Perhaps that’s the invitation for all of us: to approach our goals, and our healing, with more compassion. To give ourselves permission to go slowly. To honour each tiny step as sacred.

Because life is not a race to the summit. It is a long, winding path of remembering our resilience, redefining what progress looks like, and finding grace in the process.

So if you’re staring at your own mountain right now-whether it’s a dream, a challenge, or a season of healing-don’t get lost in how high the peak appears. Instead, ask yourself: what is one small step I can take today? Then take it. And trust that, in time, those little steps will carry you farther than you can imagine.



Read more

It’s Not a Mid-Life Crisis - It’s a Becoming

It’s Not a Mid-Life Crisis - It’s a Becoming

How Picking Flowers With My Baby Became the Most Healing Part of My Day

How Picking Flowers With My Baby Became the Most Healing Part of My Day