Ilana L

Tell us about you as a mum right now — what does this season of motherhood look like for you?

Right now, motherhood looks very different to what I ever imagined.

I'm a recent widow and a single mum to two beautiful little girls, aged 5 and 2. My husband and I were together for 13 years and would have celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary this August. He was diagnosed with metastatic bowel cancer at just 36 years old and died at 37, after an 18-month battle.

Everything I thought motherhood, marriage and family life would look like changed in an instant.

These days, motherhood looks like navigating a life I never wanted or chose while trying to create a beautiful life for my girls anyway.

What were you doing before motherhood?

Before motherhood, I was incredibly career-driven.

I had a stable and well-paying role in the health system, my husband was growing his building business, we were travelling, building our dream home and creating the life we had always envisioned together.

From the outside, life looked exactly how we had planned it. I was climbing the ladder professionally, although looking back, I can see how toxic parts of that environment really were.

How did you come into motherhood?

Motherhood didn't come easily.

It took us 18 months to conceive our first daughter. After fertility specialist intervention and surgery, I was diagnosed with Grade 4 endometriosis involving my bowel and bladder, along with rare parafimbrial cysts attached to my fallopian tubes. After surgery and tube flushes, I was incredibly fortunate to fall pregnant naturally the very next cycle.

Our second daughter's journey was different.

We tried the same procedures again, but this time they didn't work. We went through IVF, endured three rounds and experienced a miscarriage during our second embryo transfer. Our youngest daughter was conceived from our final embryo.

Both girls were long-awaited and deeply wanted.

What is something you're currently navigating as a mum?

Learning how to be a single mother when you already had everything you ever wanted is incredibly difficult.

That life wasn't something I chose to leave behind. It was taken from me. Leaving the healthcare system was also terrifying. But at the same time, it felt like I could finally breathe again.

Now, I'm building businesses that fit around my girls and the life we need, not around executive expectations and KPIs set by people who often don't understand what it means to truly care for patients or raise a family.

Since their daddy is in heaven, showing up where it matters most has become my priority.

I'm building an empire that allows me to do exactly that.

What has been bringing you joy lately?

Watching my businesses grow and seeing them genuinely help people brings me enormous joy.

I grew up in a single-parent immigrant household with very little. After losing my husband, I realised that family isn't always blood.

My village became my people. The way they showed up for me and my girls was nothing short of incredible.

The BCP Hub holds a special place in my heart because it was my husband's final building project. He completed the fit-out before he died. Every day I walk through those doors, I feel a piece of him there with me.

And honestly?

A clean house.

I know that sounds ridiculous, but it gives me genuine happiness. The pre-mum version of me loved order, and every now and then I get a glimpse of her again. Mostly though, it's the small wins. Because if having your husband die at 37 teaches you anything, it's not to sweat the small stuff.

My current philosophy is pretty simple: Zero fucks for the things that don't truly matter.

Was there a moment that really shaped your experience as a mum?

Without question, it was the day my husband was diagnosed with bowel cancer.

Our youngest daughter was only eight months old and I was still on maternity leave.

In one appointment, everything changed.

My career changed.

My identity as a wife changed.

My vision of motherhood changed.

My entire perspective on life changed.

What's something that's felt harder than you expected?

I absolutely love the newborn stage. Toddlers and five-year-olds? That's a different story.

They're hard work.

Then add grief, solo parenting, running businesses and carrying the mental load of an entire household, and it becomes next level.

Some days I don't even feel mentally present. It feels like I'm existing somewhere between surviving and functioning.

What's something you've learned recently that's helped you?

Learning to recognise my own early signs of burnout.

Understanding that it's okay to stop.

It's okay to rest.

It's okay to do absolutely nothing sometimes and refill your own cup. I've learned that constantly pushing through isn't strength. Knowing when to pause is.

How has motherhood changed you?

It's definitely given me more grey hairs, more wrinkles and a whole new appreciation for silence. But motherhood has changed me in ways I never expected.

Before kids, I was ambitious, driven and incredibly career focused. I measured success through achievements, qualifications, promotions and productivity. I could work long hours, push through exhaustion and always find another gear when I thought I had nothing left.

Then I became a mum.

Suddenly I understood the mental load that mothers carry every single day. The invisible checklist that never switches off. Remembering who needs new shoes, who has daycare dress-up day tomorrow, when the last dose of medication was given, whether the school forms are signed, what groceries need buying, who needs their water bottle washed, and wondering if anyone has eaten something other than beige food this week.

The mental load is relentless because it doesn't end when the children go to bed. It follows you into the shower, into the car, into work meetings and often into the middle of the night.

Then life added another layer. When my husband was diagnosed with metastatic bowel cancer and later died at just 37 years old, motherhood changed again.

I went from being part of a team to carrying the weight of an entire household. The decision making, the emotional load, the finances, the parenting, the logistics and the grief.

There are days when I feel like I'm running three people's lives while trying to remember who I was before all of this happened.

Yet somehow, motherhood has also made me stronger than I ever imagined possible. It has made me more empathetic, not just as a mother, but as a healthcare professional, educator and business owner.

As a Paediatric Nurse Consultant, I think becoming a mother made me better at my job. I had the clinical knowledge long before I had children. I knew the signs, the symptoms and the treatment plans. But I didn't fully understand what it felt like to be the parent sitting on the other side of the bed.

I didn't understand what it was like to stare at your child overnight wondering if they were breathing normally. To question every decision. To second guess yourself. To feel the enormous responsibility of being someone's entire world.

Motherhood changed the way I educate parents because now I understand that parents don't need judgement. They need support. They need practical information. They need someone who understands that they're often making decisions while sleep deprived, overwhelmed and trying their absolute best.

It has also completely changed the way I build businesses. Success used to look like promotions, leadership positions and climbing the corporate ladder.

Now success looks very different.

Success looks like school drop-offs.

Success looks like being able to attend a dance concert.

Success looks like flexibility when one of my girls is sick.

Success looks like creating businesses that genuinely help people while still allowing me to be present for my children.

Leaving the healthcare system was one of the scariest things I've ever done. But after losing my husband, I realised that life is far too short to spend it chasing KPIs, executive expectations and definitions of success created by people who often have no idea what life looks like outside their office walls.

Time became the most valuable currency I had.

Motherhood softened parts of me.

I'm more patient than I used to be.

More compassionate.

More understanding that everyone is carrying something you know nothing about.

But motherhood has also strengthened me in ways I never wanted to be tested.

I've learned how to keep going when I don't feel like I can.

I've learned how to function on very little sleep.

I've learned how to advocate fiercely.

I've learned how to hold grief in one hand and joy in the other.

I've learned that resilience isn't about being strong all the time. It's about getting up and showing up anyway.

Most importantly, motherhood taught me that perfection is a myth.

Some days the house is clean. Most days it isn't.

Some days I'm patient. Some days I yell and then apologise five minutes later.

Some days dinner is homemade. Some days it's chicken nuggets and whatever I can find in the freezer.

Some days I feel like I've got it together. Other days I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water.

But my girls don't need perfection.

They don't need a perfectly organised home, elaborate meals or a mother who never makes mistakes.

They need a mum who loves them fiercely.

A mum who shows up.

A mum who keeps trying.

A mum who lets them know they're safe, even on the days she doesn't feel okay herself.

Motherhood has changed the way I work, the way I build businesses, the way I educate, the way I love and the way I see the world.

It has broken me open in places I didn't know existed and rebuilt me into someone I probably never would have become otherwise.

And while I would never have chosen many parts of this journey, I can honestly say that motherhood has been the making of me.

What's something people don't always see about your life as a mum?

The late daycare pickups.

The OOSH pickups.

The endless repetition of:

"Put your shoes on."

"Brush your teeth."

"Get in the car."

The messy house.

The mental exhaustion.

And the tears after the kids go to sleep.

The tears because I'm tired.

The tears because I miss my husband.

The tears because my girls deserve their dad.

People often see the business owner, the educator and the smiling photos.

They don't always see the grief that still sits quietly behind it all.

What would you say to another mum who might be feeling the same way you have?

This too shall pass.

It's okay to not be okay.

Find your village and let them in.

It's okay if you've yelled and then cuddled your kids five minutes later.

It's okay if dinner came from the freezer.

It's okay if your hair is in a messy bun and you're wearing odd socks.

You showed up.

And right now, that's enough.

Sometimes showing up is the bravest thing you can do.

Is there someone who has supported you in this season of motherhood that you'd love to give a little shoutout to?

There are honestly too many people to name.

My friends, my village, the people who stepped into the gaps when life fell apart.

The people who checked in.

The people who sat with me in the darkness.

The people who still show up.

They know who they are.

And I will never stop being grateful for them.