I left my 15-year career to become a stay-at-home mom. I was sad and embarrassed, but now I see it as a privilege.

• Tiffany Tuttle left her 15-year career in production for motherhood after getting pregnant in 2019.
• The COVID-19 pandemic forced Tuttle to become a stay-at-home mom rather than take maternity leave.
• Tuttle now embraces her new identity and balances freelance writing, podcasting, and parenting.

I stepped into the production world as a teenager when I founded a TV show at my church. By the time I graduated from high school, production was already second nature.

I studied film at my local college, which led me to an internship at a local production studio, where I stayed as a full-time freelance editor for years. I had a 15-year career in production.

I was lucky to experience some incredible moments, from assisting on set at Connie Francis' house to editing a documentary for James Patterson. It was the career of my dreams.

Now, those memories remind me of the excitement I chose to leave behind to star in the most demanding role of my life — motherhood.

At first, I regretted leaving my career behind to become a stay-at-home mom, but now I appreciate the privilege I had of staying home to be close to my daughter.

I was only supposed to stop working until the world got back to normal

When I found out I was pregnant in 2019, being a stay-at-home mom never crossed my mind. I loved my career and wanted to keep working.

I planned to take a three-month maternity leave to acclimate and ease my child into a day care routine. The timing worked out perfectly for me to return to work on a new season of the travel and culinary TV shows I had helped shape for years.

With the nursery set up, we eagerly counted down the days until we could meet our baby girl. Then, every news channel started talking about COVID-19. All travel and close contact were halted, forcing production of the shows I worked on to shut down.

Instantly, my career was over until further notice

Even more devastating, as my due date approached, my husband and I realized we would be welcoming our first baby into the world in complete isolation.

As soon as I held her in my arms, existing suddenly felt dangerous. I felt like a walking target every time I stepped outside, but I fell in love with being a mom and felt at peace with not returning to work for a while.

Then the ripple effects of isolation spread into every corner of my life

No one was around to bring us trays of lasagna or to fold the mountains of baby clothes. My daughter cried if she wasn't held around the clock, and my husband and I barely had the energy to tolerate each other, let alone connect. I felt deep in the motherhood trenches, with no village to tag-team with.

More than what was going on around me, the unraveling was happening within me. Parts of me started chipping away between the sleepless nights, the reflux battles, keeping up with the internet rules and cultural norms about how to be a good mom, and trying to solve "What's for dinner?" — again.

Every day bled into the next.

I wasn't Tiffany the editor anymore. I was a shell of who I used to be.

There was a 72-hour period when I slept only three hours total. I was in a permanent state of brain fog. The dark circles under my eyes no longer came from pouring myself into fun, meaningful work. They came from being tethered to a colicky baby — a job with no celebration, acknowledgment, or reward. I missed the opportunity to give my energy to something that produced a tangible result.

The creativity and freedom I once basked in felt chained to my child-free life, and I mourned the closing of that chapter. I missed the simplicity of autonomy. I felt sad, overwhelmed, and embarrassed that my entire identity had condensed into one goal: survival.

The unraveling turned into rebuilding

The world never got back to normal. I realized that I had a choice to make, and I decided that this season was not going to break me.

Over the next year, I gathered the parts of myself that had cracked under the weight of new motherhood. The victories felt too small to quantify at first, but it started with taking a shower first thing in the morning, sitting down to eat my meals, and being intentional about rest.

I started to love who I was becoming and felt a deep gratitude for the privilege of not missing a single one of my baby's milestones.

I deeply love the life and family I've created

Even though my schedule is packed with homeschooling my five-year-old, chauffeuring her to dance classes, and singing along to Ms. Rachel with my three-year-old son, I've found ways to reconnect with my professional self in this busy season.

I'm a freelance writer and life coach, and I've just reached the 30th episode of my podcast. I'm back to working late nights, but they feel rewarding again, and my projects are a piece of my independence.

I would love to return to editing one day, but I'm not sad about my life's demands taking over for now. I'm still shaping stories through who I'm becoming and the big-hearted kids I'm raising.