don't let me forget these mornings
did this pregnancy heal my nervous system?
Today feels like one of those mornings that will soon become a distant memory.
As I get these thoughts out, my due date is a month away. My mornings in pregnancy have become routine almost by accident. The rituals formed on their own as the months passed. Waking up has been hard. My nausea never truly left in the mornings, but it has become far more manageable, but pregnancy insomnia has kept me restless. I wake up groggy, often to my daughter crawling into bed. The ambivalence of motherhood shows up daily. Wishing I could sleep, while feeling deeply blessed by the little voice outside my body and the little legs kicking inside, reminding me it’s time to begin a new day again.
My due date is a month away, and I don’t want to forget these sacred mornings, even when they feel heavy. They’ve been slow, comforting, and a chapter marking growth in my two-year journey.
When it is just me and her in the early hours, no one else. She cuddles in close and starts telling me her stories. I can listen fully, undistracted. I’ve talked about this before on here, but it truly feels like I’m absorbing her into my mind and body in a way unlike any other time of the day. She wakes my whole body up, she is my purpose.
These mundane, micro moments I don’t want to forget from this season:
When the sun rises and my bedroom window becomes a frame. I remind myself that even if it’s cold outside, I should be grateful for the depth of colour in the sky—because for many years in this season, mornings meant rain and darkness.
When my husband brings me a light breakfast in bed. Sometimes my daughter stays with me, and sometimes she goes downstairs so I can read, write, or meditate after I eat, before he starts work.
When my relationship with my body was put under a microscope. My body is changing rapidly. Growing this baby has felt harder, physically and mentally. I’m more aware now of how big I’m getting, whether I have stretch marks, whether my hips will ever be the same. These weren’t thoughts I had with my first. Then, I was simply in awe. I loved watching my body change. I donated my vintage Levi’s in my second trimester so I wouldn’t be tempted to try them on again, and I didn’t think twice about my body after she was born, until much later. I trusted the process. This time, I do the work. I ground myself in how incredible women’s bodies are, and in the gift of growing two humans. This will very likely be the last time I’m pregnant. I pause to give thanks to my body. After experiencing loss, I anchor into what a miracle it is to be pregnant again. I meditate on our life as a family of four, on becoming a mother of two, on this next chapter.
When I have time, as I wash my face slowly with nowhere to rush to, I feel immense gratitude that I chose not to work during this time. I sacrificed income for space—to grow this baby as healthily and with as little stress as possible, and to have this bonus time with my daughter. Work and money will always come. Time will not.
Sometimes, I need to remind myself to trust the version of me who made hard choices during an intense period, because it’s easy to waver when reflecting on decisions made in trying times. I know the me who was incredibly sick and scared in the first few months of pregnancy made the best decision she knew how, following her instincts fully to choose rest and go inward.
I’ve learned so much during this time about slowing down, about how much I was consuming and distracting myself even when I considered myself a relatively present person before. I notice the difference now in simple things like when I read books to my daughter. At times, the words used to come out of my mouth while my mind was elsewhere, like driving to a destination and not knowing how you got there. Now I am right in the story with her. I’ve noticed how eating has become a ritual over a necessity, how editing and letting go of so much in our home has created space in my brain and my life for bring a better mom.
This pregnancy has truly changed me. It tested me, it made me stronger. My perspective and my nervous system feel in tune and I can only pray that this carries through my postpartum and into my next season of motherhood.
