I’ve been a farmer my entire life, but becoming a mother has changed the way I see the farm.
For years, the hours outside my off-the-farm day job have been spent helping on my family’s dairy. Whether it was milking cows, feeding calves or hauling hay, I made sure to pitch in wherever I was needed. But all of that changed when my daughter, Nova, joined our family in August.
Prior to becoming a mother, I had always been a hands-on, dirty-boots kind of girl. I often teased my husband that he married me because I was a good farm hand. But when Nova arrived, everything shifted. Motherhood redefined what “helping” meant for the next few months.
For the first time in my life, I had to learn how to step back and watch from a distance. Instead of milking cows or pitching in with harvest, I found myself observing from the kitchen window, watching tractors roll through the driveway and listening to the hum of the milk vacuum from afar. And while I was head-over-heels in love with my newborn daughter, I felt torn between two worlds. The one I’d always known and the one I was just beginning to navigate. I wrestled with the urge to dive back in, to do it all, to be the same hands-on person I had always been.
At first, that new rhythm was hard to accept. I was running on little sleep, learning how to be a mom while still wanting to stay connected to the farm. But over time, I began to see that stepping back didn’t mean losing touch with the life I loved. It meant learning to be present in a new way and that my purpose was shifting, not fading.
This new role as a mom is the most important job I will ever have. The same care, patience and determination that farming has taught me now shape the way I raise my daughter. And while the farm will always be a part of who I am, being Nova’s mom has given me a deeper sense of purpose and a new way of seeing the world.
As I step into this new season, I’ve leaned on the wisdom and example of so many strong women in agriculture who have walked this path before me. My mom, my mother-in-law and countless other farm moms have shown me what it means to balance family, faith and farming with grace. Their quiet strength and steady hands remind me that there’s more than one way to show up and make a difference.
Now, as my daughter grows, I feel myself slowly returning to the farm in a new rhythm. I’m not back to doing everything I once did, and that’s okay. I’ve found joy in the small steps, like taking Nova out for a walk through the calf barn, showing her the cows up close and watching her take in all the sights and sounds of the farm. There’s something special about rediscovering our way of life through her. And I look forward to the day when she can walk beside me in her little boots, helping toss hay to the heifers and feed calves.
They say time flies when you bring a child into your world, and it’s true. Soon, Nova will be old enough to understand that she’s growing up in a special place, one that’s raised generations of hardworking farmers before her. And as I’ve navigated this new season of life, I’ve realized that becoming a mom has not pulled me away from the farm. It has changed how I belong to it. I’ve learned to find beauty in the pause, in standing back and in noticing the life around me.
