Tag Archives: Pregnancy

Expecting – Part II

You were introduced to DJs and electronic music when you were the size of an ear of corn. And my, did you dance!

When you were the size of an eggplant, your papa and I took a walk in woods full of colour. Gentle drops of rain began to fall and we wondered if you could hear the forest, too.

You were on the cusp of being the size of a bunch of grapes when, relaxing in the bath, I watched my belly move as you moved. You were right there, and I was amazed by you.

We visited the spa and sauna when you were the size of a turnip. In the pool, I floated on my back and my belly, basking in weightlessness. But don’t worry – we watched you kick and spent the day talking about you.

We celebrated Thanksgiving with all of your grandparents when you were the size of a cauliflower. Everyone is so excited to meet you.

When you were the size of a pomelo, your papa and I decided that I was no longer a good belay partner. I knew there would be many more occasions for us to make decisions based not on our wishes, but on what was best for you.

You were the size of a coconut when we took a walk in a fine dusting of snow, and I wondered if you’d ever know the snowy winters your papa and I remember from our childhoods on different continents.

Your papa and I started prenatal classes when you were the size of a pineapple. I left the first evening fascinated by the work my body had done for you and almost looking forward to the experiences to come.

When you were the size of a butternut squash, it was time for me to stay home and get ready for you. For such a tiny creature, you certainly do come with a lot of accessories!

When you were the size of a Romaine lettuce, we started talking with the midwives about the best way to bring you into the world. However you get here, we cannot wait to meet you.

When you were just about the size of a melon, I was decisively ready for you. And at the same time, I was prepared to carry you as long as you needed.

Weimar, Germany – February 2026

Getting Ready

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.

Marrakech, Morocco – October 2025

Protected

A friend recently sent me a bracelet in the mail – no card, no note. Instead, the gift was accompanied by an explanatory text introducing the the bracelet as one for expectant mothers and informing me that the three stones on a thin cord were rose quartz and hematite. According to the text, rose quartz is meant to provide protection and emotional support for mother and child, while hematite is one of the oldest protective stones and believed to help maintain balance in body, spirit, and soul.

I felt a peace spreading through my body when I held the bracelet in my hands. It’s the type of jewelry that I’d like to wear without taking off, but I’ve decided to remove it at night for the sake of longevity. For many years I wore red string bracelets, believed by cultures around the world to protect the wearer from harm. In the tradition that I know, a loved one clasps the bracelet around the wearer’s left wrist where it should remain until it falls off on its own. I often found mine tangled in my sheets upon waking, and I’d like to prevent my newest protective bracelet from meeting the same fate.

I admit to being somewhat superstitious in certain contexts, having a baby being one of them, as well as fully persuaded by the existence of unexplained spiritual forces in the universe. I hadn’t known that I was holding any negative emotions until I put on the rose quartz and hematite bracelet and felt lighter, safer, more confident. I am not one to shy away from incorporeal practices of the ages.

My partner and I joke about how we found each other in the world – mostly by travelling through enough countries in the same year that we eventually landed in the same place. We are both happy to accept a spiritual explanation for that.

That a friend from halfway around the world sent me just thing that I didn’t know I needed has, to my way of thinking, similar spiritual overtones).

And any force of nature that people have believed in for thousands of years, especially at a time when I draw strength from all of evolutionary history, is a powerful one indeed.

Chiang Mai, Thailand – January 2018