Writing a book is a lot like being pregnant. The process is very personal and internal. There’s a lot that happens that feels like a delightful secret: the baby hiccups, moves, kicks you to say hello when you rest your hand on your belly.

It’s the same way with a book. While in the writing stage, I’d read back over what I wrote – chapters no one else had seen – and have that same, delicious, private pleasure because something special was growing within me.

At the same time, growing a baby – whether it’s a real baby or a book or a personal project – is something that’s rarely done completely alone. You have guidance, support, resources, a wealth of information at your fingertips, friends and family to lean on, a support system of experts, like doctors and nurse practitioners (or, in my case as an author, a publisher, editor, art director…)

And just like I learned so much about myself in the months before giving birth to my children and then once I became a mom, I’ve learned just as much as I became an author.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned is to lean.

I’ve never been good about leaning on friends and family or admitting I’m not able to handle everything myself. I believed that there’s more value in going it alone. I like the feeling of barreling through challenges like they’re my own obstacle course and I’m racing to see how much I can get done, as if I’m out to set a personal record. Doing it alone carries weight, builds status, pushes you harder to achieve more.

But it also creates exhaustion, reduces focus, and isn’t fun.

And the idea that having an inner Mean Manager who drives you to work hard and then work harder so you can get further faster isn’t necessarily true. Sociologist Kristin Neff’s research on self-compassion shows just the opposite: the more self-compassionate you are, the more productive you are, and the happier you are at large.

And just like when you’re newly pregnant and can’t imagine ever fitting into the enormous maternity clothes that your friends have passed your way, I couldn’t imagine how much I’d grow. Over the summer, I made it my personal goal to say yes whenever I could to requests for help. I’ve reached out to ask for help from my writer’s support group, even (or especially) when I felt vulnerable. Friends have taken care of my children and taken care of me by shopping for me, reading chapters and giving honest feedback, sitting down with me and my scattered to do list and helping me prioritize and organize what to do first, even providing free acupuncture sessions to help me ease out of my head and back into my body. Friends listened to my writing woes and then gently told me to shut up, sit down, and get back to work.

Just like research has shown that having an exercise partner increases your motivation – and also your performance – having friends, colleagues, and family in my corner increased my resolve to finish, even when writer’s block stopped me in my tracks, even when I experienced my longest bout with insomnia ever, even when I thought I couldn’t add one more task onto my already full plate.

Friends – including my so very patient and devoted husband – would bring little gifts: a smoothie while I wrote, a bag of berries left on my front porch, a grown-up coloring book to help me relax, a homemade meal for my family when I was out of town with a note that said, “Thank you for sharing your wife with the world.”

I leaned, and there was a strong wall of so many people who held me.

“Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends,” wrote Virginia Woolf.

To my friends: Thank you.

“You’re handing this remarkably well,” said my husband as we brought the last of the houseplants out to a shaded corner of the backyard. We were preparing to have the house tented for termites: all of the open food and liquor, houseplants, medicine, people, and Traviesa the cat needed to be removed for the three-day process.

Our original crash pad arrangement had fallen through and so my husband, two kids, and Traviesa were going to be bunking for three nights with a generous friend who had a meticulously-kept house, exquisite hardwood floors, elegantly upholstered furniture, and who had never had children or pets of his own. (I gave the cat a stern talking-to while trimming her nails before putting her in the carrier; the boys were lectured, too.)

I knew my husband meant his statement as a compliment, albeit a backhanded one, and I let my soft self accept the statement as praise, ignoring my prickly side which had a slightly different reaction.

But I had to agree with him; I was handling my stress remarkably well.

In the past, I would have continued to squeeze more projects and responsibilities into my already full schedule – even with the addition of moving out of our home – until each day was filled to overflowing, bringing my stress to high levels while my mood crashed and burned.

There was a lot that I was saying yes to this summer, but I was saying no to so much more.

Earlier in the summer, I had written a short handbook to accompany my “How to Parent Like a Prius” program for moms. (You can get your free copy here.) The handbook includes a recommendation to evaluate everything on your to do list in terms of its desirability and its urgency/importance.

Here’s what happened when I followed my own advice:
I exterminated responsibilities with low desirability and low importance from my to do list. This means that, for now, I’ve ditched passive leisure activities like watching television and spending extra time on Facebook.

I’m handling responsibilities that have high importance and low desirability the same way I deal with big, icky spiders – by asking, “Honey, could you help me, please?” My husband took over most of the preparation for the fumigation and all of the tasks involved with moving back in. (He thoroughly cleaned the empty refrigerator and freezer before stocking the food we had stored offsite during the fumigation. No, I’m not sharing him.)

In addition, I delegated all of my baby sign language responsibilities to the extremely capable Teri Voorhes, one of Touch Blue Sky’s baby sign language instructors and an uber-efficient administrative assistant/project manager.

I'm treating items with high desirability but lower urgency (not importance in this case) with the utmost care. Much like how I capture delicate daddy longlegs with a cup and carry them outside, I moved my time with girlfriends to after my book launches on September 1st. I’ve missed seeing my friends but I know they’ll be waiting for me when my schedule clears after book launch day.

What’s left are the essentials: work that makes a difference, my children, husband, and home. And even though my schedule is crawling with things to do, I can breathe easy.

Kathleen Ann Harper is the author of the soon-to-be-released book, The Well-Crafted Mom, and a certified life coach for moms. She runs programs for moms, offers one-on-one sessions, and speaks to groups both large and small to help moms manage the many transitions of motherhood. Download her free handbook, How to Parent Like a Prius, by clicking here.