Pregnancy, for me, was an enchanting journey filled with joy and vitality. From the moment I saw those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, I felt like I was floating on a cloud. People couldn’t stop talking about that pregnancy glow, and boy, did I wear it proudly!
My husband and I thoroughly enjoyed this precious phase of our lives, cherishing each day as it unfolded. Sure, I faced some typical pregnancy symptoms, like swollen ankles and frequent trips to the bathroom during my third trimester. I also had some heartburn every now and then. But those were honestly minor inconveniences and were a small price to pay for the miracle growing inside me. Each day as my stomach grew, I held onto it. I would sing to my growing baby in the shower and my husband insisted that we play classical music to “the bump”. I almost felt guilty about my pregnancy. Friends of mine had such challenging pregnancies. Constantly exhausted. Nausea and vomiting. High blood pressure. One of them even developed diabetes, which is apparently a thing. Who knew. My body, on the other hand, seemed to embrace motherhood effortlessly. Healthy and happy. My husband adored seeing me bloom and couldn’t keep his hands off my swelling belly, his excitement mirrored mine. We just couldn’t wait to meet our baby. We also decided not to find out the sex of our baby. It was very tempting when we had scans, but we weren’t too keen on the idea of a gender reveal party or anything like that.
I know that I was blessed with a relatively smooth pregnancy. It was a time of love, laughter, and anticipation, and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world. And meeting my daughter was an experience that I cannot put into words.
