When I think about seasons of intense balancing acts—one moment always stands out:
I was carrying three hearts, three spleens, six legs, six eyes, three butts, and three noses in one body… AND I closed one of the biggest deals of my career.
During my twin pregnancy, there were massive opportunities on the line at work. I was eager to contribute, but physically limited in what I could do. Here’s what I learned during that time—lessons I carry forward not just in motherhood, but as a leader, teammate, and friend:
Overcommunicate—especially when it’s uncomfortable.
Early in my pregnancy, I wasn’t great at this—largely because I hadn’t shared the news yet. I needed more support than I was receiving, but I was scared to ask for it. So I worked longer hours to overcompensate for the silence, especially when I was collaborating with others. In hindsight, I wish I had spoken up sooner. Communicating your capacity is an act of leadership.
Evaluate the risk—and stick to your boundaries.
Two days after a cross-country trip, my doctor handed me a note: no more travel. At first, I was frustrated. My husband and I missed weddings, family gatherings, and time in the mountains with loved ones. But in the end, we had a bigger goal—to bring our babies home safely. I was medically restricted to staying within 33.6 miles of my home (and thus within accesible care of my high risk doctor). At first, that distance felt oddly specific (and wildly inconvenient), but after experiencing three previous pregnancy losses, I vowed to follow every medical directive to the letter. So we stayed put. Leadership is sometimes about choosing the long-term vision over the short-term vibe.
Document everything.
I’m a visual learner, so I write things down—lots of things. Notes with time and date stamps helped me spot gaps in a plan or jog my memory when pregnancy brain kicked in. Documentation isn't just about staying organized—it has become a form of mental clarity in a season of constant change.
Identify your true stakeholders.
With daily injections and medications, I couldn’t do it alone. I leaned on the people who mattered. Friends and family would take my midday calls to distract me while I pushed a needle into another sore, knotted spot. Their encouragement kept me grounded and reminded me that this was all for something greater.
Celebrate the wins—big and small.
Every successful ultrasound felt like a championship. Every great customer call? A whole event. My team and I hyped each other up after calls, traded feedback, and exchanged kudos. I felt like Serena Williams winning a singles match while secretly carrying an “extra partner.”
We were out here winning. And it felt incredible. To the parents reading this—how did the journey shift your working style?