10 Things I Wish I Had Known Before Having a Baby

#1. Babies cry. A lot.

I wish someone had told me just how much babies cry, that it’s their only form of communication, that it’s a good way for them to exercise their lungs. I wish someone had told me that if I’m in the middle of something, it’s totally fine to let him cry for five minutes before going to him. Especially with him being my firstborn, I ran to him every time he cried the minute he started crying. I think it took a good couple of months before I got used to the sound and felt comfortable letting him cry it out (for a reasonable amount of time).

#2. Zippers over buttons.

Buttoning up a screaming baby at 3 am is not fun. Outfits with snaps down the front might be cute, but zippers are so much easier and I was thanking them in the middle of the night.

#3. Breastfeeding is a strange experience.

I had no idea that breastfeeding could produce period-like cramps. I had heard that breastfeeding could make me super tired, thirsty, and hungry, but I didn’t realize just how much. I’m still amazed that just looking at him or hearing him cry can cause me to leak. But most of all, I wish someone had told me earlier that it’s normal to feel emotionally and mentally out-of-sorts during the breastfeeding/pumping phase.

#4. “Mommy thumb” is a thing.

Apparently there is a right way to hold a baby. For four months, I held him for most of the day with my thumb open on my non-dominant hand. One night when I went to pick him up, I felt a snap and then searing pain along the base of my thumb. I could barely lift him. That’s when I googled “mom wrist pain” and learned about De Quervain’s Syndrome. It took a good week of resting my thumb, wearing a thumb splint at night, and letting Steve do some of the heavy lifting (literally) before the pain subsided. I found these articles particularly helpful about learning the proper way to hold a baby: Rehab for a Better Life and a Kaiser Permanente article.

#5. Formula is okay.

I wish I had known that feeding a baby formula is likely going to happen at some point, whether it’s after my colostrum has dried up during his first few days or when I’m trying to wean him off of breast milk months later. I think knowing that would have made me feel less guilty about feeding him formula. Because I don’t produce enough breast milk for him, we have been feeding him about a bottle of formula a night since he was born. I used to feel like I had failed as a mother in some way, but now I realize that formula is bound to happen.

#6. Pacifiers are okay.

I so desperately wanted to avoid my baby putting anything plastic or synthetic in his mouth, which meant I didn’t like the idea of using pacifiers. During his first couple weeks, it felt like I was nursing him for an hour and a half at a time. Nipples sore, my mental health frayed, my arms and shoulders tired - I wondered how mothers could enjoy breastfeeding so much. Then, I realized he was mostly comfort nursing and a family friend told me, “don’t be a hero; give him a pacifier”. We used silicone ones for a while before I discovered rubber ones. Regardless, pacifiers have saved my nipples.

#7. Babies grow really quickly in the first year.

Every baby grows at a different rate, but I was shocked at how quickly he grew. In a flash, he outgrew his preemie clothes, then his newborn ones, then we moved on to the 0-3 month size. I feel like we only spent two weeks in 0-3 month clothes before we put him in 6-9 month sizes. I bought four new sleepers for him when he was a few weeks old because of how rapidly he was growing and before my sister could drop off her son’s hand-me-downs. Never again. He wore them only a handful of times before he outgrew them.

#8. Babies need a lot of stuff.

At one point in the bedroom we had a sound machine, a humidifier, and a fan running at night. In the kitchen, I have a section for washing and drying 50 different pump parts, pacifiers, and baby bottles. In his playroom, we have a bassinet, a Pack n’ Play, a changing table, and a dresser full of baby clothes. As someone who is trying to be a minimalist, I’m shocked and overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff we now have in our house.

#9. Some baby stuff isn’t intuitive to use.

For two and a half months, nearly every time we fed him from a bottle, the bottle would leak milk all over him. Sleep-deprived and cranky, we would get so angry at the bottle. It took us an embarrassing amount of time to figure out how to correctly put the cap on. I wish I had taken the time to read instructions on bottles, breast pumps, and swaddles before the baby arrived.

#10. A bassinet isn’t necessary.

Because I had seen friends and family use them, I assumed I needed a bassinet too. I wish I had known that I could skip the bassinet and have the baby sleep in a crib right from the start.

my fave baby products so far

• Solly Baby swaddles

  These are the only swaddles I’ll ever need. We have several cotton muslin swaddles, which are fine, but we absolutely love the Solly Baby ones. They’re bigger, stretchier, softer, and harder for our baby to kick out of when he’s wrapped up. And, they’re shipped in plastic-free packaging.

• Esembly reusable diapers (inners)

  100% organic cotton, easy to put on, and easy to wash, Esembly diapers helped ease me into sustainable diapering.

• Marley Monsters reusable wipes

  These soft, cloth wipes are made from 100% cotton and ship plastic-free. We use them for wiping butts and spit-ups. We even soak them in water and freeze them for when he’s teething. About 40 wipes lasts me a few days.

• Ecopiggy natural rubber pacifiers

  If our baby is going to put something in his mouth, I try really hard to make sure it’s made out of a natural material like rubber, wooden, or cotton. It’s impossible to do when it comes to bottles and some toys, but I try. I love these 100% natural rubber pacifiers that I get from EarthHero.

Sustainability Now

Global pandemic + baby = impossible zero waste

What does sustainability look like for me right now? It looks like disposable diapers, plastic shopping bags, and lots of packages at the door. Admittedly, I’m using Amazon more than I ever have (I don’t know where else to buy Vitamin D drops for infants). I’m buying plastic-wrapped items at the grocery store without reusable shopping bags (our store stopped allowing reusable bags due to COVID). My water usage has increased significantly given the additional laundry, bottles, and pump parts to wash. It feels like my pre-COVID, pre-baby zero waste efforts have gone down the drain.

Actually, my sustainability journey hit a bump in the road when I started getting really nauseated during the early weeks of my pregnancy - about a year ago. The only things that made me feel better were carbs, crackers, and cheese. And they usually came wrapped in plastic. Then came the doctor’s visits. Each appointment, blood draw, and ultrasound created some form of waste. When I actually delivered the baby, I can’t even begin to list all the single-use plastic used during my hospital stay.

Once the baby was born, people felt the need to send lots of gifts. I mean, lots of unnecessary gifts. Not only did I feel stress and guilt over the plastic I did buy, I felt stress and guilt over the plastic I didn’t buy. Not to mention all the time, energy, and waste used to disinfect everything. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just how I feel.

Sigh. Sustainability seems impossible. Zero waste seems impossible.

I’m doing the best I can. I try to use reusable diapers, but the disposable ones wick away more moisture, which means a less fussy baby. I try to only use reusable wipes. I try to use rubber pacifiers instead of silicone and plastic ones. I try to only buy wooden or rubber toys. I’ve only purchased three new sleepers for the baby; the rest of his wardrobe is secondhand. His crib and mattress are secondhand. We use bar soap, are eating a more vegan diet, and avoid synthetic fabric as much as possible. We’re not driving as much as we used to. 

But, I know this is not nearly enough. There’s so much more I want to do on the community level, the political level, the corporate level.

Simply put, there is nothing sustainable about having a baby. Well, aside from the notion of sustaining one’s lineage. Having a baby is literally the opposite of reducing my footprint. In fact, it’s creating even more of a footprint on this earth. Before we decided to have kids, I struggled with the idea of bringing a child into this world. Our natural resources are already depleted, the planet already overpopulated - why create another mouth to feed? 

Amidst deforestation, climate change, and pandemics, I don’t know what the world will look like in the next ten years. With COVID, I don’t know what the world will look like tomorrow. It’s a terrifying time to be alive. It’s a terrifying time to bring a baby into this world.

My husband and I have had long discussions about how we’d try to make growing a family as sustainable as possible. We want to teach our children how to be sustainable stewards of the Earth, to be a voice for the voiceless. We want our children to be better humans than we ever were. In a sense, we want and need our children to right our wrongs, to pay the dues of past generations.

And yet, it all seems so selfish. Children should have no obligation to us. We brought them into this world. They shouldn’t be pressured to save it.

At the very least, we need to teach our children about respecting our environment, about how our wellbeing is inextricably tied to the wellbeing of our natural world.

Sustainability now? It doesn’t exist.

Eco-anxiety

“All living beings deserve clean air, clean food, and clean water.”

“Would you care for any dessert?” our waitress asks. “No dessert, but we’ll take another order of appetizers,” I tell her. I’m 31 weeks pregnant, it’s the evening of Valentine’s Day, and I’m fully enjoying a night out with my husband. I order my post-dinner snack just as the restaurant is getting busier and our appetizers take a little while to arrive. This is usually no problem, except that I irrationally blamed it on a series of unfortunate events that occurred afterwards.

We’re parked two blocks away from the restaurant and just as we’re about to cross the street to our car, an old RV accelerates at the corner. I freeze. My ears are always on high alert for the sound of loud vehicles. I don’t know much about automobiles, but my brain thinks that the louder the vehicle, the more exhaust it leaves behind.

I can’t decide whether to hold my breath and run to our car or turn around and try to flee from the invisible cloud of choking gas the RV leaves behind. I step into a parking lot only to find a parked pick-up with its engine running. I literally can’t get away from breathing in poison. I frantically change my mind and decide to walk towards our car. The thick smell of carbon from the RV fills my nose and seemingly every cell in my body. I want to cry. The RV is blocks away now but its vapors remain thick in the air.

We get in the car and my sadness turns to anger. Why did I order the extra appetizers? Why did the RV have to be at the street corner just as we were? Why does air pollution exist? Why was I in the wrong place at the wrong time?

I burst into tears and sob uncontrollably. My catastrophic thinking snowballs. I’m worried about the effects of air pollution on me and my baby. I’m depressed because I can’t seem to get away from it, no matter how hard I try or where I am. I’m sulky towards my husband, who experiences the brunt of my anxieties. I feel guilty for not being able to control my emotions. 

This is what eco-anxiety can look like.

I’ve struggled with anxiety for a long time but over the past few years, it’s morphed into eco-anxiety. My phobia of air pollution is what I struggle with most. To me, my phobia is akin to someone who is an arachnophobe. When I see semi trucks, crop dusters, or cigarette smoke, I literally freeze with fear. It’s like throwing an arachnophobe into a pit of spiders. Whether rational or irrational, my perceptions are my reality.

Sometimes I wonder if ignorance is bliss, whether I’d be happier not knowing about toxins and their health effects, about climate change and environmental destruction. There is probably some truth to that. But, I also think ignorance is bliss until someone gets hurt. It’s all fun and games until cities like Bakersfield, CA become unlivable due to air pollution and fire season becomes more common in more regions. Once I saw air pollution (or smelled it), I couldn’t unsee it. I couldn’t un-breathe it.

Having anxiety, worrying about the Earth, stressing about environmental hazards - it’s exhausting and can be all-consuming. These things leave little room in my mind for positivity, creativity, self-care. I wonder about all the hours I’ve wasted feeling anxious and depressed.

The silver lining with anxiety is that it spurs me towards action. Mentally, I’m trying to focus on what I can control, on improving my negative mindset. Physically, I’m trying to walk or bike instead of drive, to educate those around me about VOCs, to petition to legislators for cleaner air. Though much easier said than done, I’m trying to channel my fears and anxieties towards something productive. I suppose the theme here is the word try. Trying to thrive in life than be terrified.

---

What has helped with my anxieties

Over the past year, I’ve learned some coping mechanisms that have given me some comfort:

1. Seeking help. I share my fears and anxieties with my therapist. Together, we discuss practices that might help me feel more calm: meditation, exercise, grounding techniques, journaling, taking a walk. What’s difficult is that deep breathing is usually a good way to relax but with this phobia, my issue is that I’m afraid to breathe.

2. Facing worst case scenarios. When I’m afraid to leave the house, Steve and I talk through my worst case scenarios and we devise a plan for if those scenarios were to actually happen. It makes me feel better knowing that the person I’m with has my back when I step out into the world.

3. Thinking positively. While I have a plan for my worst case scenarios, I’m also working on training my mind to think best case. For me, this takes a lot of energy since I’ve spent most of my conscious life being doom and gloom. I constantly need to remind myself that the Universe isn’t malicious, that the Universe has my back.

4. Getting enough sleep. I’ve found that sleep deprivation makes it harder to fend off scary thoughts. Especially with a newborn, sleep can be hard to come by. But when I get 6-8 hours of sleep in a night, I feel mentally stronger.

What we can do today about air pollution

• Sign up for the Moms Clean Air Force newsletter.

• Write to local officials asking them to support environment-first legislation.

• Don’t idle vehicles.

• Cut back on VOCs, many of which are found indoors. VOCs hide in:

  • Air fresheners

  • Carpet

  • Cosmetics (including hairspray and nail polish)

  • Diesel emissions

  • Dry-cleaned clothing

  • Fabrics

  • Furniture

  • Gasoline

  • Industrial emissions

  • Office printers and copiers

  • Paint

  • Pesticides

  • Tobacco smoke

• Avoid products enhanced with chemical fragrances, such as perfumes, cleaning products, candles, air fresheners, and plug-in scents. Switch to essential oils instead.

• Buy less; buy local. Trucks transporting goods and factories creating goods are significant contributors to air pollution.

• Compost. If there isn’t a municipal composting program available, consider composting at home or supporting a private composting business (such as WasteNot Compost). Food waste is the biggest contributor of solid waste in landfills, where it releases methane into the atmosphere.

• Reduce plastic usage. Producing plastic and incinerating plastic waste in landfills and open fields create toxic fumes we all breathe in.

• Eat less meat, especially beef. Livestock is responsible for about 14.5% of global greenhouse gas emissions.

• Offset carbon emissions by donating to organizations that focus on carbon offsets and/or fight deforestation.

What we can do in the future

• Purchase an electric or hybrid car to cut down on fossil fuels.

• Replace gas-powered lawn equipment with electric versions.

• Power homes with renewable energy (such as solar panels or CleanChoice Energy).

• Walk or bike instead of driving or taking an Uber/Lyft.

• Take vacations that don’t require flights.

Motherhood: The First Month

The Birth

Bub’s birth was, dare I say it, a fun experience for me. Of course, there were tears (and tears), lots of physical discomfort (thank you, contractions and a horrendous IV), and lots of worries (#covid19). But, the positive moments I had far outweigh all of the pain.

A couple days before Bub was born, I went in for a scheduled ultrasound and doctor’s appointment. Throughout my pregnancy, he had been measuring on the smaller side but I was told not to worry. Except this time. This time, I was told Bub’s stomach was measuring a few weeks behind the rest of his body. Because he was growing asymmetrically, our doctor recommended that we induce labor that evening and get the baby out as soon as possible. I went from thinking I still had two weeks to prep before the baby was due to...this baby might come today. 

Despite feeling nervous, Steve and I spent the rest of the day trying to prepare as much as we could: packing a hospital bag, dropping the dog off, figuring out how to set up the car seat. We were supposed to be at the hospital at 9:30 pm. As the sun set, I tried not to obsess about the fact that our lives were about to change forever and that the next time we were home, we’d have a BABY with us.

As we walked into the hospital, I laughed at all the stuff Steve carried: a pillow, a comforter, a bag full of snacks, a duffel bag, and the breast pump backpack. We looked like we were going to sleepaway camp.

No joke, the hardest part of Bub’s birth for me was getting an IV. Had I not been lying in my hospital bed already, I definitely would have fainted. Throughout the night, our nurse would check in to see how my contractions were coming along and each time, it was my IV that I’d complain about. To help take my mind off of it, she ended up wrapping it with hot pink medical tape that’s typically given to little kids. Babying my IV became the running joke during my hospital stay, and I am in no way embarrassed about it.

My original birth plan was to give birth naturally with no medication. I laugh about that now because I was given Cervidil immediately after my IV was put in. After 12 hours of being on Cervidil, I was administered Pitocin. Ten hours later, I got an epidural. My doctor manually “broke my water” and a few hours later, I went into active labor. So much for having a birth plan. I honestly assumed that because my mom had relatively quick and easy deliveries when it came to my sister and me, I would experience the same. Not the case.

Once I was in labor, Steve and our nurses were the ultimate team. When I felt a contraction coming, Steve took my left leg while two nurses grabbed my right leg. DEEP BREATH. PUSH, PUSH, PUSH. QUICK INHALE. PUSH, PUSH, PUSH. QUICK INHALE. PUSH, PUSH, PUSH. They cheered and yelled words of encouragement. I felt like Lebron James at the free throw line. I was in labor for two hours but it felt like 10 minutes. I was so glad I got the epidural - it allowed me to enjoy every moment of my delivery experience. Without it, I would have only focused on how much physical pain I was in.

#TMI I was told that the biggest challenge with a vaginal birth was pushing out the baby’s head and shoulders. After that, he would slip right out. And, he did. He literally slid right into the doctor’s hands. 

The hospital room immediately buzzed with activity. I looked around me and was in awe. Aside from Steve, the room was filled with women. Our doctor was stitching me up. One nurse was weighing Bub (6 pounds, 2 ounces). Another was removing my epidural. Two nurses were helping with cleanup. It was one of the few times in my life that I recall witnessing smart, compassionate women expertly doing what they do best, confident in their knowledge and skills, and working in beautiful synchrony. I felt inspired and am so proud our baby was welcomed into the world by a team of strong women.

With a healthy Bub in my arms, I suddenly realized that I now needed to keep him alive. And, I had no idea where to start. Thank goodness for the nurses we had. During the next 24 hours at the hospital, our nurses would teach me how to properly hold him, nurse him, change him, and bathe him. This was my first hospital stay ever and throughout it, I experienced firsthand what a godsend nurses are. Can we start calling them angels sent from heaven?

When it was time to leave the hospital, I was reluctant. I didn’t want to say goodbye to our round-the-clock care and amazing nurses. The 400 square feet hospital room was my home for the past three days and the only world Bub knew outside the womb. For three days, I was sealed off from the outside world with only one mission: to give birth to a healthy baby. Nothing else and no one else mattered. It was freeing to be able to ignore every other responsibility in my life. Now with mission accomplished, it was time to face the outside world and I did not feel ready. I wanted more time in my hospital room bubble.

The First Month

No book, YouTube video, or class could have prepared me for motherhood. There is no manual for my specific baby, no teacher I can turn to with all the answers. I often feel like I am in over my head, and I’m up at all hours of the night thinking to myself:

How do I pull a onesie over his head? What’s the best way to bottle feed him? Why is he still crying even though I’ve changed, fed, and burped him? Why does he hate sleeping in his bassinet? Why does he fart so much? Does he have colic? Why isn’t my breast milk coming in as much as I thought it would?

So many questions. So much googling. And those are just some of the questions I had about taking care of a newborn. I’m also trying to figure out the new postpartum me. My body, my hormones, my sleep schedule. They’re all changing and at times, I feel really overwhelmed. I cry at the drop of a hat. I fall asleep on command. I sweat the small stuff. I get triggered easily. I can’t remember the last time I had a good laugh. I feel isolated. Top that off with a screaming baby, showerless days, and sore boobs. Postpartum life is all of the things.

Being maternal is pretty foreign to me. I wouldn’t say I have a strong “maternal instinct”. Fortunately, my other half has parenthood down to an art form. Steve has taught me how to put clothes on Bub, how to bottle feed and burp him properly. Steve is the one who knew to monitor for jaundice right after Bub was born. Steve never loses his cool, even when it’s 3 am and Bub has pooped and peed all over himself. I wish I had Steve’s confidence and parental instinct. But, I’m grateful I have a partner who has the patience to teach me how to take care of our baby and who does his best to cheer me up when I feel like a failure of a mother.

And, I often feel like a failure. When Bub is wailing at the top of his lungs in the middle of the night, I get flustered. I just want him to stop crying as fast as possible. Easier said than done when he’s spit up and peed all over the changing table and all the swaddles are in the laundry I haven’t had a chance to wash. I’m constantly worried I’m not doing something the right way. I’m scared I’m not holding his soft head correctly. I’m terrified I’m going to break him somehow.

For the first month, our lives have been broken into two-hour increments. Warm up his bottle, feed him, burp him, change his diaper, try to get him to sleep. Then, eat and hydrate ourselves, pump (for me), take the dog out (for him), clean dirty bottles and pump parts, maybe do laundry. Repeat.

Our new routine has been hard to get used to. Every day, I feel some form of frustration, exhaustion, and anxiety. Every night, I feel a sense of dread knowing Bub will likely fuss every 90 minutes. The truth is, there are moments when I think to myself, “Can I give the baby back? I’m not cut out for this.” There are moments when I miss my life before the baby.

And yet, I love my baby more than anything. I want to remember everything, every little thing he does: the way he cracks a smile after chugging a bottle of milk, the way he coos in his sleep, the way his tiny fingers wrap around my index one, the way he looks around him with such curiosity and sometimes a furrowed brow. I’m both eager for him to be able to hold his head up on his own and asking time to stand still so I can keep him this size in my arms forever. As his mama, I’m learning that there are tears of joy and sadness when he reaches each milestone.

One month in and I’m still getting used to calling myself “Mom” and thinking of myself in terms of “Parent”. Sometimes my mind still thinks I’m pregnant. Sometimes I wake up, don’t know what day it is, and forget for a hot second that I have a baby. Sometimes I make plans in my head only to remind myself that I can’t because of how unpredictable he is.

But every day, I learn something new. About him. About myself. I’m learning to embrace all the feels, all the cries, all the smiles. I’m learning to let some things go, like cleaning floors and tidying up the house. I’m learning to ask for help, even if it’s just a glass of water. But most of all, I’m learning to slow down and be more present. I’m not a perfect mom, nor will I ever be, but if I can show my baby love and give him the time and attention he deserves, maybe I can do this mom thing.

My Pregnancy: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Pregnancy has been a huge lesson for me in letting go and having faith. There is so little I have control over and for a planner like me, I had a hard time adjusting.

I stared at the positive pregnancy test in total disbelief and then yelled for Steve from the bathroom. We jumped up and down in pure excitement.

Then the anxiety rushed in. I immediately started thinking about all the things I shouldn’t have done over the past several weeks while our precious embryo came to life.

My two matcha lattes a day. The x-rays at the dentist’s office. The cigarette smoke I walked through. The mouthguard I wore at night. The hot yoga classes. The list goes on.

Before I got pregnant, I remember thinking that I would only eat healthy and organic. I wanted my baby to have the very best. I laugh now about how naive and judgmental that thought was.

I braced myself for the nausea and like clockwork, I started feeling nauseated the week after we found out we were pregnant. And the only things that made me feel better: bread and cheese. Oh, the irony of thinking I could stick to a healthy diet during my entire pregnancy.

Ginger, kale, mushrooms. I couldn’t stand the sight or smell of them. I ate loads of them before getting pregnant and now just the thought of them made me want to hurl. I remember ordering a side of kale at a restaurant with the hopes of taking a few bites since I hadn’t eaten greens in a while. When it arrived at the table, it made me feel so sick that I had Steve eat all of it as fast as he could just so I didn’t have to look at it anymore. What. Was. Happening.

I couldn’t believe it. I had heard stories like mine and laughed about them, fascinated and slightly doubtful that nausea could be that bad. Oh, it’s bad and I had to experience it to finally understand the tragedy of wanting to eat something but have it completely disgust me at the same time. To feel nausea every day and have the only things that make me feel better be the things I know I shouldn’t eat. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

But, I know I’m one of the lucky ones. My nausea started to subside around Week 9.

When the nausea kicked in, I was angry. You’re telling me I have to work full-time, grow a baby, fight nausea, AND try not to tell anyone for the first few months lest I miscarry? Nothing is fair about pregnancy. The fear, anxiety, and stress is a lot to bear. Not to mention my body is changing, my hormones are all over the place, and I feel exhausted most of the time.

Late one evening, I was on my bus ride home, reflecting on my workday. I was about nine weeks pregnant at the time. A day full of back-to-back meetings with an extra side of a long commute. I needed breaks in between my meetings (in reality I needed naps in between meetings). I felt like my brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity and I couldn’t give it the rest it needed. Instead, I was expected to be alert and engaged the entire day. I felt frustrated, sad, and guilty that I couldn’t be my best self.

Then, a thought crossed my mind, “Um, hello! I’m growing a baby!” I had to be kinder to myself. The expectations of me at work may not have changed but the expectations I had about how and when I take care of myself could.

My second trimester was more enjoyable. These few months were full of special milestones. We shared the pregnancy news with our families, close colleagues, and friends. Though as soon as we started sharing the news, a small part of me felt sad about it. The baby was no longer our little secret.

At Week 20, we found out we were having a BOY. For me, the gender reveal was the most exciting part of the pregnancy. I was convinced we were having a girl, and we even had a name picked out. Our ultrasound technician saved the reveal until the end of the appointment and when she confirmed we were having a boy, Steve sat next to me jaw-dropped and I immediately teared up. One minute we’re in complete shock and the next, we’re filled with overwhelming excitement. It was the biggest surprise of our lives.

The following week, I felt the baby kick for the first time. Being pregnant has been both a magical and terrifying experience, and I don’t hear about the terrifying part enough. As soon as the baby was conceived, I felt like it was us against the world. I worried about consuming caffeine, deli meat, raw vegetables, fish with high mercury content, tap water, and artificial food coloring. I worried about breathing in car and truck exhaust, going through body scanners at airports, taking baths, and wearing jeans that were too tight. Choices I made throughout the day became a game of “pick my poison”. And, those were the things I tried to control. In the back of my mind, I thought about the chances of a miscarriage, of genetic defects, of a stillbirth. The things I couldn’t control but nonetheless worried about. Whether or not my fears were rational, I was (and still am) scared. But to stay sane, I had to learn to stay positive and have faith that everything will be okay.

That is to say, the little kicks I felt (and still feel) are my main reassurance. I like to think they are his way of telling me that he’s all right in there.

Despite my fears and the minor discomfort of not being able to bend over and put on my own shoes in Week 34, pregnancy hasn’t been all that bad. My hair has never been thicker, my skin never clearer, and I’m thoroughly enjoying foods I would normally restrict myself from eating. There’s also something incredibly liberating about intentionally growing my belly. I’ve spent most of life sucking in my stomach so I could fit into skinny jeans, look thinner in photos, and feel a tiny bit more comfortable in a bikini. For the first time ever, I don’t have to think about that. I’m proudly growing and showing off my big belly.

As we head into the final weeks, I’m absolutely terrified of the labor and delivery. I’m worried I won’t be a good mom. I still worry about a lot of things. I’m told my thoughts are normal. But if the past eight months have taught me anything, it’s that thoughts come and go. And even if most of them are scary, it’s the positive ones I need to hold on to.

Pregnancy tips that really helped me:

• When I was nauseated, carbs were my best friend. I also found that not letting myself get hungry helped me manage the nausea. During the day, I ate a little something every hour or so.

• Despite wanting to lay in bed all day, exercise did help me throughout my entire pregnancy. In the first trimester, it helped keep the nausea at bay. In the second and third trimesters, it helped me feel strong and fit.

• Night hunger is real. I keep crackers on my nightstand for when I wake up in the middle of the night starving.