Becoming a Parent in Business School

By: Alex Muir

I think every business school student remembers the first couple weeks of their MBA. Excitement is high. Energy feels boundless. You have met one hundred people and maybe remember three of their names. You are desperately trying to figure out where you fit in, and more importantly, which spring break trip you are going to go on. 

I came to Kellogg with expectations about how things were going to go. I would make friends. I would become a financial modeling wizard. I would learn a ton. I would take the maximum number of classes and always do my homework. Some of those things have happened. Some have not. 

And then, in January of 2025, I found out I was pregnant. 

Alex with her JV and baby August

It was planned. I wanted to have a baby. Even so, I laughed and swore when I saw the pregnancy test. Just a few months after navigating the transition into business school, I was suddenly preparing for another transition entirely. 

Almost immediately, the physical reality of pregnancy forced me to navigate my MBA differently. The first trimester exhaustion hit swiftly and hard. Most days, I would wake up, shower, and get back into bed for hours because it felt like I could not take one more step. 

I was frustrated. I often found myself wondering if I was missing the entire point of the MBA. How was I going to survive the next year? How much worse would this be when the baby actually arrived? What was I doing here if I couldn’t accomplish what I had wanted to? I felt like I was falling short of the version of myself I pictured when I first arrived. This constant doubt forced me to stop reacting and start choosing. 

By definition, navigation is active. Navigation is the process of making intentional decisions to allow yourself to move forward, despite changing conditions, constraints, or uncertainty. Although not always made consciously, navigating the transition to parenthood during my MBA ultimately came down to a few key choices. 

Intentional decision #1: Be honest. I realized that navigating this transition was going to require honesty: both with myself and with others. Honesty with myself meant acknowledging that during pregnancy, my capacity was diminished. I was growing a human, after all. Honesty with others meant RSVPing “Yes,” quickly followed with a text of “I am really going to try and make it, but I might not.” 

Intentional decision #2: Let go of the “shoulds.” Gradually, it became clear that my MBA experience simply had to look different. I should have taken the venture capital internship in Boston, but I realized I actually wanted to stay close to my doctor. I should have been going on yacht week (every MBA goes, right?) but getting on a boat eight months pregnant was a terrible idea. I had to get disciplined about what I actually wanted from the MBA experience, not what I thought I should want.

August was born on September 11th, four days before the new quarter started. Overnight, I became a mom. Suddenly, our lives revolved around an eight pound human who could scream at us at any moment, and whom we love dearly. Which leads us to decision #3.

Intentional decision #3: Rely on others. Returning to school as a new parent required a new round of navigation. Who had class when? Who would be with the baby? How much extra time did I need just to leave the house? The added complexity of our lives quickly forced me to rely heavily on others, and I will never forget how our Kellogg community showed up for us. Classmates babysat, brought food, walked our dog, and held the baby while he napped. Accepting help was uncomfortable at times, but people insisted, and it made the transition exponentially easier. 

Now as graduation approaches, we are thinking through another transition–relocating, returning to work, and doing it all with a baby. I have felt the tension that many mothers carry: wanting a fulfilling career and wanting to be present for a growing child. Business school has given me the space to explore that tension, and the belief that through active navigation, there is a way to make it work. Read the Companion Piece: Navigating Grief in Business School by Jane Fraley