If I had to describe what pregnancy does to my mind, I would say it's like being in high school again. Racing thoughts enter and leave my mind, overwhelming me before the last thought let up. Insecurity has a tight grip, making me question my every move and worth. And the loneliness. It's pretty much that failing-at-everything-feeling that I was all too happy to bid good riddance to with my adolescence. I'm not busy, I'm failing. I can't control my body and mind, I'm failing. I have no idea what I want, I'm failing. I am not fully enjoying my pregnancy, I am failing.
I know this is yet another growing season. At the end of this trial lies one far more difficult. But I find that we are not completely left to ourselves in these times. When I have been staring at nothing while my mind races, a fur baby curls up in my lap after a couple of obligatory kisses. When my brain embraces the loneliness and my body refuses to ask for help, an arm curls around me, closing the space I created in our bed. When sleep won't come and my heart is pounding with fear, a flutter from my abdomen reassures me of the life forming, reminds me of what I am truly capable of and what will be the greatest product of my life yet.
It's okay if this is hard and I don't want to exclaim how much I love the changes going on in my body or mind to every social media outlet. It's okay to feel envious of those glowing mamas, being beautiful packages while forming a life inside. It's okay because I appreciate it. All of it. I know just how amazing it is a gift to do what my body is achieving. I know pain yields a beauty in us, and I want all the beauty I can get before I meet my child.