Hey love,
I don’t really know how to blog tbh so I’m sure the format and the execution will be off, but this story has been really weighing on my heart and I knew I needed to share for other moms feeling something similar.
If you’re reading this right now with that knot in your stomach—the one that feels like fear, and guilt, and heartbreak all at once—
I see you.
Because I was you.
The day before my maternity leave ended, I wasn’t prepping a return-to-work outfit or labeling bottles for daycare.
I was curled up on the floor, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.
I wasn’t just scared.
I was desperate.
I was drowning in guilt, feeling like a failure before I even had the chance to be a mother.
The bills were piling up.
We were living on assistance.
Food banks. Borrowed money.
Bankruptcy papers filed before my daughter even had her first birthday.
I had done everything I knew how to do—and it still wasn’t enough.
But the thing is, the fight hadn’t just started when she was born.
I had been fighting for her long before she ever took her first breath.
When I was pregnant, I worked 16-hour days because I believed if I just pushed a little harder, I could save enough to stay home.
I worked my day job from 7AM to 3PM—then turned around and worked nights until 2AM.
At one point, I was so heavily pregnant that I would pee on myself while working—because I couldn’t physically hold it anymore, but I didn’t dare slow down.
I told myself I had to do it.
That this was how I would buy time with my baby.
But the cost of living in Washington D.C. swallowed every penny I earned.
And the truth I hate admitting?
Even though it was my idea, even though I thought I could carry it all—
The weight nearly broke me.
I developed preeclampsia late in pregnancy—a condition so serious it finally forced me to stop working.
I was put on bed rest, helpless, scared.
And when it came time to give birth, I almost didn’t make it.
The complications from pushing my body so hard caught up to me.
I almost died bringing my daughter into this world.
And the strain?
It didn’t just scar my body.
It put deep cracks in my marriage too.
Even though working that hard was my idea,
there was pain and resentment that lingered for a long time afterward.
The feeling that I had been left to carry it all.
And still—it wasn’t enough.
Sitting there the night before maternity leave ended, looking into the face of the tiny life I fought so hard for,
I knew:
I couldn’t go back.
I wouldn’t go back.
But I also didn’t know how to move forward.
I stayed up late that night, desperation in my chest, Googling:
“How to make money from home.”
“Work from home jobs for moms.”
“How to stay with my baby and still pay the bills.”
I clicked through scammy websites and impossible promises until my eyes blurred.
And then I remembered Etsy—the platform I had used years ago as a broke teenager selling crochet pieces.
Maybe, just maybe, it could be the answer.
I chose Etsy because it made sense.
It wasn’t some overnight scheme.
It was real. Tangible. Trusted by millions.
Unlike Amazon, it didn’t cost hundreds to start.
It didn’t require massive tech skills or shipping warehouses.
Etsy was accessible—even to a tired, scared new mom with nothing but a few dollars and a lot of hope.
It wasn’t perfect.
But it was something I could start today.
And I did.
I opened my shop and did what most beginners do:
I threw everything at the wall.
300 listings… and almost nothing sold.
I refreshed my dashboard 20 times a day.
I cried when nothing changed.
I wondered if I was just destined to fail at everything.
But something inside me—small but stubborn—kept whispering:
“No. Not yet. Keep going.”
I stopped guessing.
I started learning.
I binge-watched YouTube tutorials, studied successful shops, strategized late into the night with my sister who was on the same journey.
And slowly, slowly—things started to shift.
I stumbled into a niche.
A tiny, passionate pocket of people that I understood completely.
I started creating for them, not for the masses.
And almost immediately, sales started rolling in.
In two months, I went from owing Etsy money to making four figures in a single month.
And in that moment, something clicked inside me:
Maybe I wasn’t broken.
Maybe I was just waiting for the right door to open.
I ran to my mom, tears pouring down my face—not from fear this time, but from victory.
“You believed in me when nobody else did!”
That moment wasn’t about money.
It was about taking back my life after years of feeling like it belonged to everyone else but me.
Today, I don’t work because I have to.
I work because I choose to.
I groom a few dogs a week for loyal clients I adore.
But my life?
It belongs to me—and to my daughter.
She has never gone to daycare.
I’ve never missed a first word, a field trip, a scraped knee, or a whispered secret.
We go on adventures whenever we want.
We dance in the kitchen, chase dandelions in the sun, buy silly little toys without worrying if we can afford it.
I buy gifts for my mom now—the woman who stood by me through every breakdown.
I’m not rich.
I’m free.
And that’s everything.
Why I Created Etsy Done For You
I built Etsy Done For You because I don’t want you to have to walk the road I did alone.
The throwing things at the wall.
The long nights wondering if you’re good enough.
The endless hustle with no clear direction.
You are good enough.
You’re already enough.
You just need a smarter, faster path—and someone to walk beside you.
Inside Etsy DFY, you’ll find:
100+ Trending products (more added monthly) ready to sell, I made them just for you
SEO titles and tags that help you get found
AI prompts, mockups, tutorials
1:1 personal support from me
You don’t have to waste months wondering if this could work.
It can.
It will.
And I’ll be right here cheering you on.
If you’re ready to build not just an Etsy shop—but a life you love—
Etsy Done For You is waiting for you
Start your free trial
& Make sure to join my free Etsy community, tell them Lillian Mom sent you! It’s invite only
The tears you’re crying today?
They’re watering the freedom you’ll live tomorrow.
You’ve got this.
And I’ve got you.
xo,
Angeon
Lillian's Mom 