Perspective is an amazing thing. To be able to look back on something and have everything fall into place and make just a bit more sense. It’s a gift, really.

I know we tend to be more hard on ourselves when we reflect in hindsight about how we could’ve perhaps acted with more grace if we’d have integrated the knowledge we have at the present. But I think it does us a greater service to simply allow ourselves to be proud of the fact that we are now in the position to reflect so clearly.

If you’ve been following along with my story then you’ll know I have expressed a lot of challenges throughout this pregnancy. Less physical – I actually feel I got off quite easy (for the most part) on that end of it. But the emotional and mental struggles were extremely trying for me. 

I’m here now. 9 months pregnant. A gloriously awkward, waddling ball of flesh. And I can now see the value in what I experienced, and how I experienced it. I see how incredibly important it was to let myself grieve the losses of what I’m losing, and have lost… I see how important it was that I let myself experience every ache and hardship of this transition… because of where I am right now. 

I finally feel ready. Actually, I feel excited. It took me most of my pregnancy to get here – but I’m here now with real sincerity. 

I think that if I wouldn’t have let myself grieve properly; if I hadn’t authentically felt and honoured each progressive step that lead me to now, that I wouldn’t be able to fully embrace and experience and honour the joy, ease, and excitement that I am currently experiencing now. 

If I had written off my feelings as a case of the ‘baby blues’ and continued onward with false optimism… that those unaddressed feelings of loss, sadness, resentment would have lingered. They would be undigested and then ultimately interfere with my authentic joy like some weird static humming in the background. 

It wasn’t a linear progression. It was many ups, downs, sideways, and lots of backwards. But I’ve landed here. In my own sense of self-assuredness and power. I trust my body, I trust myself, I trust the process.

I’ve learned so much through all that I’ve experienced in the last 9 months. I’ve learned that having indigestion is not only uncomfortable, but painful. So, perhaps when my infant is exercising the capacity and endurance of its lungs over a lengthy period time – maybe I can reach into the memory of my own trials with that discomfort, relate to it, and better hold space for its justified expression of the uncomfortable experience. 

I’ve learned that the really bad days feel really long… but they are also finite. That change is inevitable, and can be quite swift from one day to the next. That these swift changes can be jarring – and the simple acknowledgment that the abnormal-ness is, in fact, quite normal, is incredibly soothing. 

I’ve learned that there’s no point in planning ANYTHING because you think you know but you really don’t know anything at all. That people will give you incredibly poor advice, say unkind things, be judgemental, and not be able to hold space for your feelings and emotions in the way that feels validating or supportive. ALSO that people are incredibly compassionate, nurturing, uplifting, encouraging, and can be one-thousand percent necessary in over-coming certain challenges. And I’ve learned, most importantly, that I have the power to choose my people.

This experience has been fascinating. It’s been a real opportunity to re-evaluate myself, my relationship with myself and others, and given me tremendous chance to evolve (even if it took several instances of clunking me upside the head). I’m grateful for it. 

I’m grateful for every rough day, every tear, every moment of anger, fear, and doubt. I’m grateful for the complacency, the apathy… and I’m grateful for the joy, the excitement, and the strong sense of empowerment. 

I’m ready. I’m finally ready. And it feels really good.