About ten years ago, I went through a difficult period in which I couldn’t see a future; I couldn’t dream. I tried to imagine one, five, ten years into the distance and saw blackness, absence, nothing. It wasn’t that bad things were happening, but that I couldn’t see anything at all.
I tried the same with friends of mine and could see a future for each one of them. I concluded that nothing was wrong with my imagination, but that something was wrong with my own thoughts about myself.
This is why I will always tell people that therapy changed my life. Go see a therapist – they are good people.
One of the things on my mind back then was one day, eventually, starting a family. Ten years has gone by faster than I ever would have thought and when I consider myself and two friends around me at that time, I can only throw back my head and laugh.
At the time, all of us were unsuccessfully dating. Now, we are engaged, partnered, married. None of us were ready for the children we all hoped would be somewhere in the future. Now, we are all preparing for babies who will arrive this year.
Ten years ago, I saw these futures for my friends though I couldn’t see one for myself. Today, I am holding hands with these friends across time and space; the future couldn’t look more different.
I recently started my time in Mutterschutz, the period from six weeks before my due date until eight weeks after the baby’s birth in which I am not supposed to work but receive my full salary, paid partially by health insurance. This time of “mother protection” is there to help avoid physical or mental strain, which increases risks for both mama and baby, and to allow a heavily pregnant woman to step back from certain aspects of daily life in order to prepare for what is to come. As I’ve been writing my to-do list, I’ve kept this time firmly in mind, which is what had me starting on task one, wash all baby clothes, first thing Saturday morning.
After a day of hanging in the living room to dry, everything was ready to be folded. We’ve received some baby clothes as gifts, but mostly been given gently used items from friends, meaning we are entirely lacking an overview of what we have. My partner and I looked at each other helplessly.
“How do you fold something so small?” “I dunno.” “Like this?” “But now we can’t see what it is. Like this?” “What is it?” “This one has feet.” “Oh okay. This one has arms but no feet.” “Oh. Okay so start a new pile.” “Which pile does this go in?” “I dunno. Is that a onesie or does that go over a onesie?” “How should I know? How do we even put this on? It has no snaps.” “Do we need a pile for things without snaps?” “These two things are different but neither has snaps.” “I am not dressing her in anything without snaps.” “Okay, put it here.” “What’s the name of this pile?” “Should we write signs?” “Where does this go?” “I’m serious about the signs.” “This is so tiny.” “There’s only one thing in this pile.” “So combine it with this pile.” “Oh wait, no, these are different. Fold the arms out so we can see that there are arms. Long arms.” “We got this.” “This is so tiny.” “The next round is socks. How do we even dry socks?”
Savour everything now, they say. This time will never come again, they say.
To that end, we bought a new board game and borrowed one from friends. We started going out for dinner once a week and lie in bed weekend mornings until hunger drives us into the day. Alongside the ease with which we are living right now, there’s extensive paperwork to complete (welcome to Germany), a hospital bag to pack, bottles and pump to sanitize, a photo album to start. There’s a life to get ready for.
But there’s also the relationship between the two people who decided to be a family before there was a third member involved. Although no one has said so, maybe one idea behind Mutterschutz is to put relationships, rather than work, at the forefront in order to protect them at a time of great change. I would imagine that the stronger and more centered we are together, the easier the transition into a new phase of our lives.
Time will tell about that. In the meantime, the socks are drying on the radiator.
I ran into a friend in town last weekend who asked what I thought was a very insightful question: Are you feeling like yourself?
I’m 25 weeks pregnant and my body is undergoing a series of rapid changes. I’ve become comfortable with the pace of change at this point, but the changes themselves are always very new, and each still takes some getting used to. That being said, I really don’t spend that much time in each individual body phase before another takes over. It’s a journey, as they say.
And it really is very beautiful. I have always loved seeing what the body is capable of, and I confess myself in awe of biology.
It’s obviously not just the body that changes during pregnancy, but also the mind. I’m not talking about “baby brain” here, but rather the way that I’ve come to see myself, which is why my friend’s question rang really loudly. The way I spend my time now is definitely different to how I spent time before: I cycle to and from school much more slowly; I am restricted to easy (and therefore boring) routes at the climbing hall, and being there is more for social reasons than training reasons; yoga has become about opening, stretching, and breathing, and no longer has anything to do with using the breath to go deeper and become stronger; I find myself very comfortable spending evenings quietly at home and have been doing a lot of crocheting. Of course, some of this could be related to the time of year. It’s cold, dark, and generally unpleasant outside, and I was more than happy, as always, to go for a long walk in the forest on a sunny day last weekend. But it all feels a little slower, a little more relaxed, a little more settled.
I’m still feeling like myself in the sense that I am at home in my body. I love what it looks like and feels like, I take a picture once a week, and I am utterly charmed by the movement of my growing baby. But where I’ve had to see myself differently is in the way that my body allows me to experience the world. I have had to modify much of what I love to do because that’s the right choice right now, and my body reminds me of that. Accepting where my body is today allows me to enjoy this stage of life, and that is good for the mind. Feeling good in the mind is what allows me to feel like myself, albeit a somewhat different version.
Different phases of life give us the opportunity to try on different selves and I’ve been letting myself listen to this current one. It turns out there a lot of peacefulness to be had there.
Weimar, Germany – November 2025
Photos, travels, musings, and ideas on education by someone trying to make the world a better and more peaceful place
By Rebecca Michelle 