Nicole Huisman: a motherhood journey that began earlier than expected

Nicole’s journey into motherhood with her daughter Ola began much earlier than expected. At 25 weeks, to be more precise. What started as an unexpected path has grown into a joyful, everyday life filled with love, laughter, little routines, and so much connection.

In this warm and gentle conversation, Nicole opens up about life with Ola now: the everyday wonders she brings, the bond that keeps growing stronger, and the quiet strength she’s discovered as a mother. Her story is a beautiful reminder that even when things start differently, joy and love find their way in their own time.

What was the moment like when you first met your daughter?

Nothing prepares you. It started with some stomach pain, nothing alarming. A day later Ola was born, at exactly 25 weeks. Completely out of nowhere. There was no golden hour, no immediate skin-to-skin. Just an incubator, wires everywhere, and this impossibly small girl in a pink hat that was way too big for her. She was right there, but it felt like there was glass between us in every sense. And still, the love hit me instantly. I remember thinking: how can someone this tiny take up all the space in my chest?

Looking back, what are some of the first small moments with Ola that still feel magical to you today?

When they placed her on my chest for the first time, about two days after she was born. The room was loud, monitors beeping, nurses everywhere. But I didn't hear any of it. It was just me and her, and for a few minutes nothing was scary. Just this warm little body against mine, her fingers, barely the size of my fingertip, holding on. Like she was still part of me.

Was there a simple gesture or routine in those early weeks that helped you start feeling like her mum?

Kangaroo care, completely. When your baby is born this early, you can't just hold them whenever you want. So the moments when they place her on your bare chest become everything. It regulates their heart rate, their breathing, their body temperature, but honestly, it saved me just as much as it helped her. We became obsessed. We made schedules, found the cosiest blankets, set ourselves up for hours at a time. I'd read to her, sing, pump milk, feed her through her tube, all while she was lying on my chest. We spent Christmas like that, rang in the New Year like that. It became our whole world. The doctors told us later that it genuinely impacted her development, which is incredible when you think about it. Something so simple, just being close. That's when I stopped feeling like a visitor in her life and started feeling like her mum.

What is Ola like now?

So sweet, so joyful, so full of light. She is really, truly here. I look at her and I see this extra lust for life, as if somewhere deep down she knows how special it is to be here.

As a stylist and creative, how has motherhood influenced the way you see beauty and design?

Before Ola, beauty was something I composed. I'd style a room, curate a shot, build a world. Now beauty ambushes me. It's in the weird way she stacks her toys, the color combination of her bib against our kitchen tiles, the chaos of a living room that actually gets lived in. Motherhood has made my eye less controlled and more alive. My home used to be "magazine-ready" and now it's magazine-ready and covered in tiny socks. Honestly, I think that's an upgrade.

What does a typical day look like?

To be honest, we're still figuring out our new normal. The days are shorter and more chaotic and crowded, but also filled with so much more energy and joy thanks to Ola. Sometimes I work from home, sometimes in a fun café. Sometimes I shoot on location, sometimes I write in my silent office. On days with Ola, I try to plan just one work thing and let the rest of the day guide us. All of this without even taking into account the incredible number of medical appointments we have with Ola, which take up a lot of time and mental headspace.

What are some of the small challenges you're navigating?

I think "small" is relative when your child was born at 25 weeks. We still have a medical calendar that would make most people dizzy. Neurology, ophthalmology, physiotherapy, speech therapy, rehabilitation. But we normalize it, because she normalizes it. Ola doesn't know her schedule is unusual. She just knows she likes our sweet physiotherapist and that hospital hallways have interesting acoustics. She's sometimes completely drained after appointments, so we try to keep everything around her calm and cosy. Routines are extra important for us.

The real challenge is the mental juggling. I'm a freelancer, so there's no maternity leave that stretches endlessly. I'm building back my work while also being Ola's full-time project manager, medical coordinator, and, you know, her mum.

How do you and your partner share the load?

Friso and I have been together since we were teenagers, lost each other, found each other again. That history helps. We know each other's limits. We don't divide things fifty-fifty on paper, but it balances out in the ways that matter. He's incredibly present. We're a team, and Ola made us a better one.

How has becoming Ola's mother changed the way you see yourself or the world?

It stripped me. In the best and hardest way. The fertility journey already cracked me open. Years of trying, going to Belgium, and the podcast I made about it, sharing it all publicly when there was no happy ending in sight. And then Ola arrived, three and a half months too early, and whatever armor I had left just dissolved. I'm softer now. More patient with myself, less patient with bullshit. I care about different things. I used to lose sleep over a brand deal. In the hospital days, I lost sleep because my daughter was breathing funny, and I was counting respirations at 3 AM. That puts things in perspective fast.

What are you most looking forward to?

Watching Ola grow into the funny, energetic, wise and inspiring girl she already is. I can't wait to enjoy adventures with my little family, in all sorts of ways.

If you could speak to another mother going through a similar start to motherhood, what advice or words would you share with her?

Share. Even when you don't have a happy ending yet. Especially then. I started talking about our fertility journey on Instagram and every day women wrote to me saying "me too." That became a podcast. That became a kind of healing I didn't expect. Vulnerability isn't weakness. It's the thing that connects you to every other person who's going through it in silence. You don't have to wait until the story is wrapped up neatly. The messy middle is where the real comfort lives.

Did you enjoy Nicole’s story and want to learn more? Follow her on Instagram @nicole_huisman.