Clinical psychologist Sanam Shamtobi, Ph.D., PMH-C, founder of The Mother Hood based in L.A. is on a mission to help moms know that it’s normal to deeply love your baby and struggle with the transition.
The Mother Hood offers therapy for women in various stages of their motherhood journey. They focus on postpartum depression, anxiety and OCD, identity shifts and career transitions, parenting stress and overwhelm, lack of connection with partner, fertility challenges and pregnancy loss, mom guilt and many other issues that affect moms.
Please share with us what led you to launch The Mother Hood.
The Mother Hood was born out a genuine passion to hear every detail about a parent’s life and know how they are processing being responsible for raising children.
I have always been deeply curious about the human experience, but once I got pregnant with my first child, I was shocked at how profoundly unknown the entire process was. From understanding my body (i.e. what is a fertile window?!) To the nuance of the birth plan, to all the decision fatigue that follows once your baby is born… I just didn’t know this world existed until I was part of it, and then it became all I wanted to talk about.
It was also during this time that I began to experience postpartum anxiety, rage, and what I would deem subclinical OCD. I struggled to drive with my son in the car, would cry every time I had to pump (sidetone: Dysphoric Milk Ejection Reflex is an actual diagnosis more people need to be aware of), and I felt a deep chasm in marriage even though my husband could not have been more loving and involved.
I was in love with my child, but I was not in love with the loss of my autonomy, and the claustrophobia of early postpartum had a real grip on me. When the clouds parted, I made a vow to help other women experiencing these symptoms and opened The Mother Hood while I was pregnant with my second child.
What led you to pursue clinical psychology and perinatal mental health in particular?
I’ve always been that person who wants to sit in the deep end of the pool and talk about the things most people avoid. Clinical psychology felt like a natural home for my curiosity about the human experience, but it wasn’t until my own transition into motherhood that my “why” became crystal clear. I realized that the perinatal period is this incredibly vulnerable window where you are quite literally being dismantled and put back together. I chose this specialty because I saw how little space there was for the “both/and” of motherhood—the idea that you can deeply love your baby and also deeply struggle with the transition.
I wanted to be the person who holds that space for women, helping them navigate the messy, unpolished parts of mental health that don’t make it into the highlight reels.
Our motto is “Permission to feel it all” to create a space where nothing is taboo to say out loud and you are held by a professional who will help you navigate it.
What are some of the challenges you see in your practice that moms in L.A. are facing?
Being a mom in L.A. comes with a very specific brand of pressure. We live in a city that is obsessed with high performance and looking like you have it all together, which makes the “comparison trap” feel almost inescapable.
There’s also a real tension between wanting to be a “present” parent and the grueling pace of professional life here. It leads to a lot of what I call “hurried heart syndrome,” where moms feel like they are constantly rushing from one thing to the next without ever actually feeling grounded in any of it.
Lastly, and this shows up the most in my consultation calls before the therapy even begins, is the challenge of mothers allowing themselves the time and space to actually prioritize their mental well-being. We are so used to enduring and caring for others, it almost feels like a natural reflex to neglect ourselves, so just getting women in the door feels like a hurdle we need to reduce friction around from the jump.
I love the idea of providing “emotional care” before and after pregnancy. What does this look like?
Emotional care is really about moving from a reactive model to a proactive one. We spend so much time planning for the nursery or the stroller, but we rarely plan for the emotional tectonic shifts.
Before pregnancy, it looks like having those honest, sometimes uncomfortable conversations about how your relationship might shift and what your individual needs are.
Afterward, it’s about having a dedicated space where the focus is entirely on you—not just how the baby is sleeping or eating, but how you are processing the loss of your old life and the birth of your new self.
It’s about clinical support that feels like a warm hug where your therapist can also hold the “WTF” of parenthood. It also looks like current, best practices informing the interventions that guide you through anxiety and depression while a real human also validates the sheer exhaustion of it all.
How can partners and other family members and friends better support the new moms in their lives?
The most helpful thing anyone can do is to stop asking “how can I help?” When you’re in those early weeks, even making a grocery list feels like an insurmountable task.
Support needs to be unprompted and logistical. Don’t ask to hold the baby while the mom cleans; instead, tell her to go nap or take a long shower while you do the dishes, fold the mountain of laundry, or bring over a hot meal.
For partners, it’s about taking ownership of the “mental load.” If the diapers are low, buy them. If the pediatrician appointment is coming up, put it in the calendar. True support is when a mom doesn’t have to be the CEO of the household for a few hours.
You are a mom as well. How are you juggling work and family?
To be honest, “juggling” usually implies that everything is moving smoothly, and that’s rarely the case! I’ve had to let go of the idea of a perfect 50/50 balance. Some weeks, my practice needs more of my heart, and other weeks, my kids need my full attention. I’ve learned to be okay with the “messy middle.”
I’m very intentional about my boundaries, but I also try to be kind to myself when those boundaries get blurred. I’ve realized that being a “good” mom doesn’t mean being a “perfect” mom, and showing my kids that I have a career I love is actually a gift I’m giving to them.
The one hard rule I have is that I am very intentional about not answering emails or texts when I am with them. I would rather excuse myself for five minutes to do that than have them think I am prioritizing my phone. Otherwise, I give myself a lot of grace and ask for help when I need it… there is no ego in mothering these days.
What actions or words have given you the most support as a new mom?
The words that resonate with me often are “this is pain with purpose.” They were spoken to me by my mom in regards to childbirth, but it has applied to most things in my journey so far. When I was deep in the throes of postpartum anxiety or feeling that intense claustrophobia of being “on” 24/7, reminding myself that the struggle wasn’t just empty suffering—that it was actually the labor of becoming a new version of myself—helped me catch my breath. It allowed me to see the “pain” of losing my autonomy not as a tragedy, but as a necessary, albeit grueling, expansion of my heart.
Action-wise, the most profound support came from those who recognized that I was essentially a “patient” too, not just a milk source or a caregiver. It was my husband noticing the invisible wall I was hitting and quietly taking the baby so I could walk outside and remember what the air felt like. It was the friends who didn’t ask “how is the baby?” but instead asked “how is my friend doing today?” and sat with me in the middle of my messy living room without expecting me to host them.
Having people acknowledge the harder side of motherhood—the rage, the exhaustion, the grief for my old life—without judgment, that was the main thing that truly made the clouds start to part and what I hope to provide for my clients at The Mother Hood.
Becoming a mom is a journey. What are some key steps we can take to support women who are in the planning phase, in the pregnancy phase and in the new mom phase?
We need to meet women exactly where they are at each stage. In the planning phase, it’s about normalizing the “unknowns” and encouraging them to build an emotional foundation before the baby arrives.
During pregnancy, we should be helping them set radical boundaries and giving them permission to rest instead of “prepping” every second.
Once they hit the new mom phase, the goal is total cognitive load reduction and providing resources to help maintain the health of their relationship. We should be circling the wagons around them, so their only job is to heal and bond. It’s about shifting the focus from “what can the mom do for the baby” to “what can the community do for the mom.”
How can women better advocate for themselves?
It starts with acknowledging that your well-being is the foundation for your child’s well-being. If you are struggling, it’s not a personal failure; it’s a sign that you need more support. I always tell women to remember they have needs, and those needs are real. Instead of saying “Is it okay if I take a break?” try saying “I’m going to step away for 30 minutes to recharge.”
In medical settings, don’t be afraid to be “difficult.” If something feels off in your body or your mind, keep speaking up until you get an answer that feels right. Your intuition is your most powerful tool—trust it.
And let’s not forget about the self-talk. What is the typical self-talk many working moms engage in? And what are some healthier narratives?
The inner critic for working moms is usually incredibly loud, constantly whispering that you’re failing at everything.
I live in the real world with my clients and deal with many of the same thoughts they come into session with. It’s that “not enough” narrative—not enough at work, not enough at home. The guilt… the never ending guilt!
First off, normalizing how absolutely HARD it is to be a working mom needs to be yelled from the rooftops. Women need to be reassured that no one has it all figured out, no matter what it looks like from the outside. We are all trying our very best, and sometimes we take the win, and other days, we go to bed with a heavy heart and mind… this rollercoaster needs to be addressed and brought into the room before any attempt to throw yourself off it can be made.
Eventually, I like to help moms identify where their beliefs about being “a good mom” come from, what narratives are they comparing themself against. And then we can begin altering the self-talk in gentle but purposeful ways to make it feel less “sticky.”
Our goal doesn’t need to be positivity- sometimes neutrality is really liberating. Instead of “I should be able to do this alone,” try “I am a human being who was never meant to raise a child in a vacuum.” Is their grief and anger in that? Sure… but it’s better to grieve the reality of what modern parenthood can sometimes feel like than label yourself as a failure of a parent.
For more information on The Mother Hood, visit themotherhoodla.com
