Written by, Kailey Bugarin | Kailey B Photo LLC | Charleston Family and Motherhood Photographer
What No One Tells You About Becoming a Mom
Everyone tells you that your life will change when you become a mom. That felt obvious. It was one of those comments that would just roll off my shoulders. Of course my life would be different, I thought. I’d be a mom. But they were wrong—life wasn’t just different. It’s not as simple as having a baby and suddenly having more responsibilities and less sleep. The baby isn’t the only one who is born. A mother is born too.
After giving birth to my son, I wasn’t the same. But I didn’t realize it right away. Everything had happened so fast, so intensely, that I was just grateful to be alive and to have my baby in my arms. I didn’t have time to understand how deeply I had changed. It’s a story that transformed me from the inside out. I was expected to go home and care for a brand-new life after almost losing my own on the operating table. I was quietly trying to process everything that had happened—and the journey that was only beginning.
Every birth story is different. Some are quick, some are long, some unfold exactly as planned, and others don’t go anywhere near the plan. But no matter how it happens, one thing is true for all of us: every birth story brings a new mom into the world too. Each journey is deeply personal. Here is mine.
The Golden Hour I Never Saw
When you’re pregnant and preparing for your baby, you research everything. If you’re not reading all the books or articles on your app, you’re scrolling through reels on Instagram. You picture yourself in those moments, knowing that one day soon you’ll be giving birth too. You want it to be perfect. I wanted it to be perfect. I was willing to do anything and everything to make sure my baby entered the world in the best way possible. I was determined to do everything right so my baby would be cared for, healthy, and nurtured, because I had dreamed of the day I would become a mom.
I learned that some mothers create birth plans to communicate their preferences to nurses and doctors, so everyone is on the same page. Everyone has different preferences. I wanted a natural birth, so that’s what I researched. Then I learned about this beautiful thing called the “golden hour.” The golden hour is the hour right after your baby is born. Your baby is placed on your chest immediately, and you share skin-to-skin contact to bond and soothe your baby. During this hour, the baby is supposed to scoot down from the mother’s chest to the breast to nurse for the very first time. The bond is supposed to be magical. To me, as I read more about this golden hour, this bonding time felt like an absolute must. But my golden hour—the one I dreamed of every day until I gave birth—never happened.
When Plans Meet Reality
We went in for an induction at midnight but didn’t start the dosages until 4 a.m. because my son’s heart rate would drop during contractions if I was on my left side. Gradually, he started doing better as the contractions grew stronger. By almost 5 p.m., I was far enough along to get my epidural and have my water broken. As soon as that happened, his heart rate dropped rapidly, and it was decided I needed an emergency C-section. I knew an emergency C-section was possible because of family history, but not for this reason. In that moment, I accepted that the natural birth I had hoped for was no longer going to happen.
They wheeled me into the operating room, and within five minutes, I heard him crying. My husband wasn’t even fully in the room yet. My son’s umbilical cord was wrapped around his chest three times. They untangled him and took him away. It felt like another five minutes—five very long minutes—before I finally got to see him. I had to accept that the skin-to-skin golden hour I had dreamt about throughout my pregnancy wasn’t going to happen.
My husband and my son were sent to the recovery room while I was supposed to be getting stitched up. But I realized that it was taking a long time. Everyone in the room was talking, and it took me a moment to realize something was wrong. The anesthesiologist started giving me more medication and inserted a second IV to give me blood. I was fighting sleep, fading in and out. I kept asking what was wrong, and even though they answered me each time, I couldn’t remember or process what was being said.
The doctors could not stitch me up yet because my uterus wouldn’t contract back to its normal size, a condition called uterine atony, which caused postpartum hemorrhage—excessive blood loss. They tried every technique and medication to get it to contract, but it wouldn’t. I was facing either life-threatening blood loss or a hysterectomy. Thankfully, after almost two hours, my uterus finally contracted to its normal size, and I was stitched up. A device was placed inside to keep it contracting for the next several hours. Then I was wheeled back into the delivery room where my husband and my son had been waiting for me.
My son was born at 5:16 p.m., but I didn’t get to hold or feed him until 7:30. Everything I had dreamed about for our birth story had been shattered. When I learned that he had to be given formula because he was screaming the whole time I was in surgery, I felt like a failure. In the moment, I didn’t care because I was just thankful to be alive and that my baby was healthy. I honestly didn’t even fully realize the severity of the situation until a couple of nights later, when I overheard my postpartum nurse explaining it to another nurse before their shift change. That’s when it all hit me. It hits me again anytime I think about that evening. I was lucky that everything ended up okay, but I didn't know how it was going to affect my life from then on.
Trying to Bounce Back
Mothers are expected to bounce back immediately after birth, no matter the trauma. Oh, you just had a baby rip through both holes? You just got seven layers of tissue sliced open? You grew a human being inside your body for nine months? You had to helplessly watch your newborn in the NICU? You only had to push for twelve hours? Well, the baby is out now. So I want you to keep it alive with zero sleep, fluctuating hormones, stitches, while you can’t go to the bathroom by yourself, and you’re bleeding and wearing a diaper. But you can change diapers, learn how to breastfeed, clean clothes and dishes, pump parts, take your medicine, eat, rock the baby to sleep, and get thrown up on and screamed at—all while your entire family from both sides comes to watch for a week straight, right? RIGHT? You can do all of that, right? You are a MOM now! You should be able to do all of that! That is what you signed up for!!! Let me help by taking your new baby away from you! Okay, okay, rant over.
My point is, postpartum is literally insane. You’re trying to enjoy all of the precious moments that you know will slip away so fast, while pleasing everyone and continuing to keep everyone alive, including yourself. Not to mention trying to recover and process the trauma of giving birth.
With all of these emotions and new challenges, I was trying to recover. Recovering from birth is hard. Recovering from major abdominal surgery is hard. Learning to work together as new parents is hard. Learning how to be a mom is hard. I wanted to bounce back—not just physically, but emotionally. I wanted to feel normal. I wanted to be Kailey again, but now with my baby. I was ready to give my baby a bottle and go back to my job. Again—none of those things happened.
When One Door Closes
My son was born in August 2023. I was a first-grade teacher, and the first day of school started just a week after giving birth. I had set up my classroom perfectly for my long-term sub, fully planning to return in three months when my maternity leave ended.
Those three months were amazing and stressful. I tried to soak up every moment of the newborn stage, knowing I would soon have to leave my baby. I was deeply attached to him because of the experience we shared. My husband and I tried giving him bottles to prepare for my return to work. At first, he took a few, giving us hope—but then he refused them entirely. No pacifier, no bottle—he would only be soothed, eat, or sleep while breastfeeding.
He also had gastroesophageal reflux, which caused him to projectile vomit several times a day for the first few months—but that’s not relevant to this story, haha.
I had postpartum anxiety with my son. I had experienced anxiety before he was born, but this was much worse. Not taking a bottle meant he would not eat without me. We tried every bottle in the store, but nothing worked. I could not imagine leaving for a full school day, knowing my baby would be crying and starving without me. Yes, he probably would have adjusted eventually, but my heart could not handle that transition.
After five years of studying to become a teacher and earning my degree, I finally had my dream job: teaching first grade at the best elementary school with an amazing staff. Deciding to leave the classroom took a huge toll on me. I made the choice to become a stay-at-home mom, prioritizing my family above all else. I was heartbroken knowing I had promised my new students, their parents, and my colleagues that I would return. Thankfully, my staff was incredibly supportive and understanding, even though I was terrified to break the news. And just like that, I was now a stay-at-home mom.
Another Door Opens
I was now a stay-at-home mom, and I was adjusting to the title. Most people say it’s the dream, but I had always imagined myself as a working mom and wanted to prove I could do both. Over time, I finally let go of what others might think and fully embraced being present for every moment of my son’s childhood. And honestly, it really is a dream.
I enjoyed every bit of my son being an infant so much that we decided we were ready to give him a sibling. I became pregnant, and we were thrilled to welcome a little girl in February 2025. Being pregnant again so soon after just getting my body back was quite the comedic timing. Although it was planned, I found myself trying to prepare for another birth story.
While starting this new chapter—stay-at-home mom and pregnant with a toddler—I realized my life wasn’t busy enough. I was asked to do a photoshoot for a friend, and it reminded me of my own identity beyond motherhood. Feeling so alive and inspired, I decided to go all in and start my photography business in September 2024.
Finding My Passion in the Chaos
I was pregnant with a toddler and had just started my own photography business. I had been photographing portraits of families and couples on and off for several years before this moment. My favorite creative outlet had always been photographing nature while birding on hikes. I transferred my talent from nature photography, past experience with portraits, joy in working with kids, and knowledge of being a mother into a service where I capture families and motherhood in Charleston, SC.
My birth story changed me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. It taught me the depth of resilience, patience, and love that comes with motherhood, and it shifted the way I see every family moment. Those early days of struggle and triumph helped me understand the real, messy, beautiful parts of being a parent—and they guide the way I work with the families I photograph. Through my photography, I get to celebrate mothers and families in their most authentic moments, honor their journeys, and preserve memories they will cherish for a lifetime.
