On Motherhood, Music, & Renewed Identity

It's officially been one year since my Carnegie Hall debut. For many, especially those who know me primarily through social media, the pictures I posted of that performance offered the first glimpse into my evolving personal life, where my form-fitting concert gown showed an unmistakable baby bump pointed directly into the sold out seats.

I did not announce my pregnancy on social media. I stayed quiet because I did not trust that my career could survive motherhood. To that point, I had never seen a pregnant concert pianist onstage. I had only heard stories of women who quietly set their artistic ambitions aside once their families grew, and I did not want that to be my story. So, in an effort to protect the forward momentum of my growing career, I made a choice: I simply did not make it a thing.

Then Henry arrived.

With him came an overwhelming pride in what my body had done, all while I continued to perform through tendinitis, discomfort, and the many unglamorous realities of pregnancy. I tuned out the voices telling me that returning to performance four months postpartum was "too soon," or that bringing my child on concert tours would damage my professional reputation.

I kept him, and that part of my life, mostly off social media. I did not mention him, did not use him as an explanation when baby-related realities made me exhausted. I just kept going.

Then, in a quiet moment of reflection just last week, I wondered what might happen if I shared something small and honest: a video I had recorded the previous October of me practicing while wearing Henry.

I posted it to Instagram (you can see it HERE). Well, technically, Henry posted it before I could get my phone away from him...

Just this morning, the video hit six million views on Instagram alone, with almost half a million likes, comments, reposts, and shares. The response was overwhelming. People used the video to celebrate women, mothers, artists—those who manage to do it all, and then some. Somehow, I had become an example of what they believed was possible.

I have to laugh. After years of performance clips, practice videos, polished promos, and carefully crafted captions, it took fully confronting my fear of motherhood "holding me back" to experience a level of visibility and connection I had never known online. My artistic mission has always centered on creating community within classical music. In ways I never expected, this video did exactly that.

I'm still in shock, but I'm also deeply grateful that I can finally allow myself to be fully seen on my social platforms.

I am a concert pianist, an orchestral soloist, and a chamber musician. I am also a mom. Neither of these identities diminishes the other. If anything, I believe I am a more passionate artist because of my maternity—not in spite of it.