When Shila and Sebastian became parents to their son, Rakim Elias, the journey into family life was both tender and transformative. Their story is one of holding onto what they love, navigating the intensity of early parenthood, and learning to set boundaries — all while embracing the shifts in identity that come with raising a child.
Rooted in Østerbro, Shila works as a lawyer and Sebastian as a photographer and musician. Together, they’ve leaned on what defines them: curiosity, creativity, and a love of experiencing the world.
Their path into parenthood has shown them that family life doesn’t have to mean giving up who they are. Instead, it can be an expansion — stretching identity into something more, and recognizing that Rakim’s needs are best met by parents who also honor their own.
How has your journey with feeding Rakim Elias been so far?
On paper, it’s been fairly uncomplicated. I was lucky to have an incredible midwife who, despite a pressured healthcare system, gave me the time and support I needed to establish breastfeeding. Thanks to her, we got off to a good start.
The challenge was that Rakim completely refused the bottle — and later the pacifier too. We tried everything, but he only wanted to nurse. When he started solids, we followed baby-led weaning principles, giving him the same food we ate and letting him decide the pace. That also shaped how we approached weaning from breastfeeding: it had to be in his own time. And now, at 14 months, we’re still breastfeeding almost as much as in the beginning, especially at night.
How did you and Sebastian navigate roles and responsibilities around feeding in those first months?
Since Rakim was exclusively breastfed, the feeding was on me — but it was only possible because Sebastian took care of me. Recovering from birth injuries, I couldn’t have done it without him. He made sure I had nourishing meals, plenty of water, and carried the heavy load at home so I could focus fully on our son. Our roles looked different, but they were equally important in making sure Rakim was cared for.
How did it feel emotionally for each of you to become parents?
Shila: It was a rollercoaster. On one hand, immense love, gratitude, and joy for our healthy baby. On the other, sorrow, worry, and a deep sense of losing myself. I often felt inadequate, as if I wasn’t enough. It was overwhelming to carry such opposing emotions at the same time.
Sebastian: For me, it was pure happiness. During the pregnancy, it felt abstract that I was about to become a father. But when Rakim arrived, everything clicked. It felt like I wasn’t truly whole until I met him.
Shila, you’ve mentioned the feeling of losing your identity. Can you share how that unfolded and shifted over time?
Becoming a mother felt all-consuming. My own needs were put aside, and suddenly everything revolved around feeding, naps, and tummy time. I felt like my life was on pause, while Sebastian could continue his routines more easily. Because I was the primary caregiver, I sometimes felt trapped in the role of “just” being a mom. At times, it could feel suffocating and overwhelming to be so much for someone and so little for myself.
I remember feeling very alone with those feelings. That was hard, and sometimes even shameful, because I worried it made me seem ungrateful. But over time, as Rakim became more independent, I started to reclaim parts of myself. I realized those conflicting feelings — love and gratitude alongside loss and loneliness — can coexist. It’s been an active process of finding myself again as an individual, not just as a mother.
How did you divide parental leave, and how did it shape your bond with Rakim Elias?
Sebastian is self-employed, so we had some flexibility. I took almost all the leave, while he took the first two weeks after birth. That meant I was the main caregiver, but we made sure Sebastian had dedicated time with Rakim — especially in the mornings, which became their ritual.
Later, when we spent a month traveling in Japan and the Philippines during leave, that balance shifted. Being away as a family helped strengthen his bond with Rakim and gave us the chance to share more of the caregiving.
Were there particular challenges or beautiful surprises in the first year?
Traveling was a big one. We love exploring the world together, but everyone told us it would be impossible with a baby. Instead of giving it up, we brought Rakim along — and we were pleasantly surprised at how natural it felt to include him, letting him experience new cultures, foods, and all the things we love ourselves.
It showed us that parenthood doesn’t mean giving up what you love. We just had to adapt. Sometimes it was hard — like leaving a festival early when he refused ear protection. Other times it was magical, like taking him to a Michelin restaurant and watching him happily eat grilled mackerel. Those are the moments we think, “This is why we do this.” When we put on music in the mornings and he laughs and dances, it fills our hearts. Those experiences shape our family’s joy and well-being.
What impact has it had on your identity as a family to bring your passions into parenthood?
It’s been huge. Of course, Rakim doesn’t need to travel, go to restaurants, or visit exhibitions. But he does need happy parents. And we’ve learned that honoring our own needs is just as important for him as it is for us.
For us, family life isn’t about erasing who we were before. It’s about expanding it — bringing the things we love into our new life as parents. That balance makes us all thrive.
What advice would you share with other new parents?
Trust yourself. Protect your boundaries. Looking back, we wish we had been braver about setting boundaries in those first weeks. After Rakim was born, we found it really hard to say no to visitors, especially family. We wanted to please everyone, but what we really needed was quiet time to land in our new family. Many boundaries were crossed in that period, and it left us feeling drained at a time when we should have been protecting our energy.
Protecting your space isn’t selfish — it’s essential. Saying no to visits, even from loved ones, gives your new family room to breathe and bond. Closing the door for a while doesn’t diminish anyone else’s love; it honors your needs too.
Looking back, do you feel parenthood has given you a new identity, or expanded the one you already had?
We’d say expanded. At our core, we’re still the same people with the same values. But parenthood has added new layers. Some parts of our old selves have shifted, especially for me (Shila), who felt like the “old me” disappeared when Rakim was born.
But instead of losing ourselves, we see it now as an expansion. Parenthood didn’t erase who we were — it stretched us into something more.