before everything changes
I started this draft post on June 9, 2026. Today is July 2nd.
I actually had a grand plan that as soon as I started my maternity leave (which I did at the beginning of June, hence the draft date), I would journal about how pregnancy has been thus far, and do some reflection on my expectations of birth so I could have notes to compare to once I did actually give birth. But I’ve really been putting this off, and now I am imminently due to give birth any hour, day, week now, so I really could not have procrastinated this post any more than I already have. There’s so much I could say about pregnancy that it’s impossible to pick where to start… so I think for the sake of my own sanity, I’m just going to free-flow write and see where this goes.
This is the first time I’m writing about pregnancy on this blog, which feels strange because it has been the main thing happening in my life for the last nine months.
pregnancy sucks (and good for you if yours didn’t)
If I had to sum it all up: the difficulties of pregnancy are not talked about enough.
Pregnancy has been an experience unlike any other for me. I was woefully underprepared for it, even though I knew I wanted children, thought I had financially and mentally prepared myself, and even though my partner and I had planned for kids for years before we actually started trying.
It has been the most challenging thing I have ever put my body and mind through. It’s been the first prolonged period of pain and sickness I’ve experienced in my life.
It has also disrupted my job and career far more than I could have imagined. In the first few months of pregnancy, it became painfully obvious to me that the workplace was not designed for pregnant people or birthing parents. It was designed around a person whose body does not change, whose energy does not suddenly disappear, a person who isn’t severely and suddenly disabled for 9 months before disappearing from the workplace for another half year. It made me realize how little true equity exists in the workplace, and how little support is given to mothers in our society.
Before getting pregnant, I had some vague belief that I could “do it all.” Looking back, that feels naive.
As a coastal city dweller, I also find myself in a strange in-between place. Among many of my friends here, I am “early” to having kids. Recently someone even called me a teen mom. But by suburban standards, I am appropriately aged or even perhaps a bit late. My pregnancy experience has been shaped by the fact that I have not seen close friends near me go through pregnancy in real time, and hear them talk about their experience in depth and detail (like how it’s well known to many that the first trimester is one of the worst). Because of that, part of me feels responsible for sharing what the experience has honestly been like.
But that honesty has not always felt easy.
My husband once asked me if I was scaring my friends by being so negative about pregnancy. Some of my non-mom friends, after hearing me complain frequently, told me that my experience made them scared of getting pregnant. I have also heard people criticize the “fear mongering” that can come from pregnant women talking openly about how hard it is.
When I heard that, I wondered the same thing. Am I being too negative? Am I being ungrateful? I felt guilty. After all, I wanted this. I wanted kids. I wanted to be pregnant. So why am I having such a difficult time?
But then I would talk to friends who have already had children, and the handful of friends I knew who were also going through their first pregnancies at the same time as I was. In those conversations, I found instant relatability. To the fear, the rage, the grief, the resentment, the excitement, the happiness… the conflicting emotions of it all. I felt deeply understood and and validated.
I think where I’ve landed is this: pregnancy can be crazy, beautiful, and amazing. Pregnancy can also really, really suck. And both these things can be true at the same time.
pre-birth reflections
The main reason I wanted to sit down and write these reflections before giving birth is that I keep hearing the same thing from parents in my life: pregnancy and early motherhood are really hard, but it is all worth it in the end.
It will feel worth it when my baby smiles at me for the first time, or when they get old enough to interact with me, reason with me, and become their own little person. This all sounds lovely. But at least right now, from where I am standing, it has been all pain and no gain. As in, I have gone through almost the entirety of 9 months of pregnancy without the cute baby that comes out at the end (lol).
So part of why I want to write this down now is so I can remember where my mental state was at this exact point in time: me as a person who has gone through pregnancy, but has not yet gone through the baby experience. I want a record of what it felt like before; before the hormones, before the first smile, before the part everyone says makes it all worth it.
There also seems to be a kind of amnesia that women in my life have described, where you forget how painful pregnancy and birth and somehow start thinking about doing it all over again for the next kid. From an evolutionary perspective, this makes sense. Of course your body would flood you with happy endorphins and hormones after birth. Otherwise, I truly cannot imagine anyone willingly signing up to do this again. At least I wouldn’t.
A couple of my friends have very recently given birth, and when I ask them about their birth experiences, I have noticed a funny trend. The mother will usually downplay the whole thing, while her partner’s eyes cloud over, like he is replaying the trauma in real time. They both experienced the same event, but only one of them got the hormonal redemption arc afterward. It is so wild. Though I am sure the same thing will happen to me.
the part where the baby has to come out
I started thinking about the brutal fact that I would actually need to give birth after my 20 week anatomy scan. Up until then, there are so many early pregnancy milestones to get through that I think I was mostly focused on making it to the next one:
the positive pregnancy test
the NIPT blood draw, where you find out the gender and whether your baby is at increased risk for certain chromosomal abnormalities
the end of the first trimester, when the risk of miscarriage dramatically goes down
the 12 week Nuchal Translucency (NT) ultrasound, where they measure the fluid-filled space at the back of the baby’s neck to screen for Down syndrome and other genetic conditions
and then the 20 week anatomy scan, where they make sure all ten fingers, toes, and major organs are developing as expected
Once everything looked normal at the anatomy scan and my pregnancy felt more stable, it hit me that the next major thing was not just another scan or blood test. It was birth. And I felt a lot of fear and dread about it. I’m scared of the pain. It is genuinely unimaginable to think that an entire baby is supposed to fit and come out from down there. I know this is literally how humans have existed for all of history, and every mother has somehow successfully given birth to children for as long as humans have been around, but that does not make it feel any less insane.
There was also a lot I didn’t know. So my husband and I tried to prepare in the ways we could. We read books. We went to a birthing class, where we learned about labor, how the cervix effaces and dilates, and how the anatomy and biology of birth work. We learned about pain management options. We interviewed and hired a doula who will be in the labor and delivery room with us. We toured the birthing center at our hospital so we would know what to expect. Having the knowledge and facts did help a little bit. I feel like right now, I am as prepared as I will ever be. But at the same time, I am still scared of the pain and terrified of the unknown.
I think realistically, once contractions start, I will sort of black out and just ride the wave of all the physical and emotional feelings. I think I will just be trying to get through whatever is happening in front of me. I will for sure be relying a lot on my doula and husband (though he will also be going through this for the first time and I think will high key be freaking out) to help me through it.
Funnily enough, the closer I’ve gotten to my expected due date, the less I’ve thought ahead to birth (even though I am probably now merely days away!) I am now just so tired and exhausted that a large part of me is SO ready for this baby to come out. And honestly, everyday I spend 30% of my brain power thinking about how to manage the discomfort and pain that is right in front of me (the pelvic pressure! the swollenness!), that I haven’t really been ruminating on labor as much as I thought I would.
So this is where I am, a few days (maybe hours?!) before my due date: tired, uncomfortable, scared, curious, and very ready to not be pregnant anymore. I don’t know what birth will be like, and I don’t know what motherhood will feel like on the other side. I’m writing this down because I want to remember the version of me who existed right before everything changed. The version who has not yet given birth, the version who has not yet met her baby.
I am excited and anxious to meet the version of myself who comes out on the other side.
