How Motherhood Taught Me to Loosen My Grip

By Annika Paonessa

I was born and raised in Massachusetts, but skiing has always been the through-line of my life. I met my husband on a chairlift... one of those chance encounters that feels made up. The lift broke down, and we were stuck together for 45 minutes. We got engaged while skiing, too.

We were supposed to get married at a ski resort in Vermont, but COVID had other plans. Instead, we had a backyard wedding—honestly, the best time ever. And then, not long after, we started on our parenthood adventure.

The Journey to Motherhood

I struggled for about a year to get pregnant. Once I finally was, I didn’t mind the fatigue, nausea, or daily vomiting that came with it. I knew it was part of the deal, and I was just so happy to finally have a successful pregnancy.

The Reality of Postpartum

Fast forward to the birth of my daughter, Capri. The delivery went nothing like I had envisioned. Still, I was blissfully happy, even as I faced a flood of emotions I didn’t expect in postpartum life.

As a labor and delivery nurse for over a decade—now a fertility nurse practitioner—I thought I’d be prepared. I thought I’d be the chill new mom.

Instead, I found myself crying at the drop of a hat. I didn’t want visitors. I didn’t want anyone near my baby. I was her mom, and caring for her felt like my sole purpose.

Learning Together

My husband was learning right alongside me. He supported me however he could, but I naturally took the lead on most things in those early days. When Capri turned one, I finally started to feel like myself again.

And then—we found out I was pregnant. Again. Definitely not part of the plan.

A New Kind of Balance

Once more came the fatigue, nausea, and vomiting, but this time, with a toddler in tow. I needed help, and I had to learn to let go of some control.

My husband started taking Capri out on little adventures to give me time to rest. When I needed a repeat C-section and couldn’t lift her for six weeks, they became inseparable.

During that time, he started sharing his passions with her, especially anything involving two wheels.

The Princess Ripper

She began on a balance bike, and by 2 years and 4 months, she was coasting downhill with her legs up. I’ll never forget my husband saying, “I’m getting her a dirt bike tomorrow.”

I laughed.
He wasn’t joking.

I thought she was way too young to handle a throttle, but she figured it out immediately. Before I knew it, we were fudging her age to enter her into a dirt bike race for kids ages 3–5.

From there, she just kept going. Pedal bike. New trails. Bigger challenges. The hardest part was adapting everything to her tiny size... she couldn’t even reach the brakes.

Now, at 3 years and 4 months, she’s riding downhill mountain bike trails that I do. She’s still racing dirt bikes, shredding powder in the winter, and fully living up to her nickname: Princess Ripper.

Letting Go and Growing Together

I’ll admit, I’ve had some serious FOMO being on the sidelines with our new baby so often. But now that my youngest is 18 months and learning to balance on her own bike, things are shifting. We’re entering a really fun season where everyone gets to join in.

I was so nervous to have another baby so soon. But it turned out to be the best thing for me—not just because my youngest is the funniest, chillest girl ever, but because she forced me to slow down and let my older daughter grow with her dad.

I would have been way too anxious to let her take on so much if I hadn’t been forced to loosen my grip.

Now, we spend every weekend outside as a family. My daughter asks to watch videos of girls biking and skiing instead of cartoons. And I’ve realized something huge: kids are more capable than we think.

Letting go of control isn’t easy, but it’s freeing. It’s something I’m still learning every day. Motherhood has a way of humbling you, of showing you that things rarely go exactly to plan... and that’s where the good stuff happens.

If you’re a new mom holding on tight, I get it. But sometimes, the best thing we can do is step back, take a breath, and watch what unfolds.

Our kids, and we, might just surprise ourselves.