Making Room for All the Feels: Thoughts on Pregnancy

Photo of Anna Bond, founder of Rifle Paper Co., photographed by Belathee Photography for Mother Mag
Photo of Anna Bond, founder of Rifle Paper Co., photographed by Belathee Photography for Mother Mag

So far, pregnancy has not been one of those life experiences that feels exactly like I thought it would. I’m not luminously wondering over the mystery of what’s going on inside my body, or joyfully anticipating the birth of our first child. Instead, I’m vacillating between completely shutting down and going on autopilot (proof of this: I’ve barely researched anything since getting pregnant…not that interested in registries or birthing classes or nursery décor. And I’m a researcher!) or being filled with anxiety and restlessness over what’s to come.

What’s weird is, in our culture there’s not a lot of room for a range of emotion regarding pregnancy. Just like when I first got married and people asked me, “How’s married life?” expecting some kind of blissful answer, pregnancy is an assumed state of joy. We greatly celebrate it with elaborate social media announcements and beautiful themed baby showers. People were way more excited when we told them we were having a baby than when we told them we were getting married. I’ve reacted the same way when friends have shared their pregnancy news—I’ve laughed and cried and hugged them and wondered what their baby would look like and proclaimed what great parents they’d make. There’s just something about new life that makes everyone giddy. Everyone except the mother-to-be. It seems that only accidental or “surprise” pregnancies are allowed a period of shock and maybe even grief, but our pregnancy was planned and hoped for, yet joy is near the bottom of the list of emotions right now.

I wish there were a ritual to mark the other side of this rite of passage, not the baby shower, squealing-over-tiny-clothes side, but the more solemn aspect of it all. It’s possibly the most significant rite of passage a woman makes in her life, if she does become a mother. It is shedding off the old and putting on the new, just like when one marries, but so much deeper even from the start, because it’s happening in your own body; you are not made one flesh with your child, as you are with your spouse, your baby is already your flesh and your bones, your heart and your future. The weight of what a pregnant woman carries, even when the baby is only 5 ounces, like mine is at this writing, is enormous. It is the weight of a new life; not just the baby to be born, but the woman’s new self to be born out of the ashes of her old, childless self. And the worst part is, you have no idea what that new self will look like. I’ve had anxious, controlling friends become natural, laidback mothers and I’ve watched the most easygoing women turn into fussy worrywarts once their babies arrive. I’ve known people who couldn’t wait to go back to work before giving birth, but afterward couldn’t imagine leaving their baby, and vice versa. We just don’t know what our new identity will be in this strange country called motherhood. We must wonder and wait in discomfort for months, watching the tsunami of change build up pressure and force until the day it tears apart everything we once knew.

“Don’t you see that children are God’s best gift? the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?” (Ps. 127:3) Scripture makes it clear that children are a blessing, and throughout the Bible, God seemed to take special pleasure in making the barren woman a mother. Knowing this, and knowing how many women (including some closest to me) have struggled or are struggling to get pregnant makes it feel cruel to air the feelings of remorse, uncertainty, even dread we have as we await the birth of our babies. But those feelings are real, and I really think it’s OK to feel them, although maybe important to share them with sensitivity and discretion. I once read that having a newborn thrusts a woman into a “new world order,” and that is not something to be taken lightly. But how does one prepare for a new world order? How does one grieve the old world order; the only one she’s ever known, that she now must leave behind?

What about you? What was the transition through pregnancy to motherhood like for you? Or what do you think it will be like, if you aren’t there yet?

P.S. I wrote years ago about pregnancy/birth as a kind of death in my essay “To Be Born Over and Over Again”, if you’d like to read; also here on the blog last year I wrote about the scary side of entering new seasons in life.


3 thoughts on “Making Room for All the Feels: Thoughts on Pregnancy

Add yours

  1. You are the second friend/acquaintance in my life to express feelings of this sort this year (or ever). The other, then a new and first-time mommy to a three month old little girl, answered my standard question, “How do you like being a mommy?!” with a very nonstandard answer: “I hate it!” At first I was a little shocked. Not at the answer, because in all honesty, she was the last friend I ever thought would become a mom before me, but the fact that she said it out loud. And so matter of fact. My initial shock subsided quickly and shifted to something akin to gratefulness. I feel a similar feeling toward what you’ve written. I think it’s fair to feel (and share) these sentiments. The fact is, what your body is doing is amazing. It is exciting to bring a new, wanted, loved life into this world. And it is also entirely fair to feel terrified, lost, and a bit off balance at the prospect of becoming an entirely new person. The world is shifting, however, and it is becoming more and more acceptable to have and share feelings that are opposite what the world expects. The fact is, women have choices today. We can choose to become parents or not, we can choose to be working parents or not, and we can choose to be honest about the choices we make. I respect your thoughts and will likely reflect on them when we sit down to decide once and for all whether we’ll become parents one day. Thank you for your honesty, and for loving yourself enough to be aware of these emotions.


    1. Thank you for reading and for your insightful comment! I love that you brought up how many choices we as women have today. The older I get, the more I feel so consciously grateful to live where I do, in the time I do, because of those choices and freedom I have (I know we’ve still got a long way to go in this country, but still…so much progress has been made)! I’m also so thankful to be part of a generation/demographic where men are expected to be hands-on, involved co-parents. 🙂


  2. Before having my son I did have a lot of freedoms. I could travel anywhere I wanted, hang out with friends. But after my son is born, everything is a logistical nightmare. I am rarely able to make choices without considering him. I have to figure out who will take care of him when I’m meeting with clients. It really get’s crazy, but he is the best son I could ever have. I always see him smiling, and full of energy. Very loving boy. I see some of my friends kids and they barely crack a smile. I feel there is something special about him, and it makes me feel very fortunate. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.


What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: