Tag Archives: Relationships

On My Mind

Expecting – Part II

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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
Germany

Getting Ready

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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

On My Mind

Expecting – Part I

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You were the size of a sesame seed when your papa and I first learned about you. We were in the Alps for some climbing and mountaineering, and all I could think about was you.

You were the size of a blueberry when we first saw your heart beating. And how fast! We were in awe.

You were the size of a strawberry when it was time for new bras. Finally, an easily managed symptom of my body shaping itself to house you.

You were the size of a fig when I saw your hands wave and feet kick. You turned around and around.

Your papa and I held hands in the waiting room when you were nearly the size of a lemon. Then, the doctor showed us your symmetrical brain, four-chambered heart, 10 fingers, 10 toes. Your feet crossed at the ankles and your hands covered your face. Through tears, we watched you move.

You were almost the size of an apple when it was time for maternity pants. I marvelled at my body’s ability to make space for you.

You were the size of a cucumber when my skin met skin in places that had never touched before. I grew out of my climbing harness and started wearing one designed for my changing body, announcing to everyone who didn’t already know that you were on the way.

When you were the size of a mango, your papa felt you move for the first time. We lay in the dark as I guided his hand, both of us basking in the astonishment of you.

Halfway through the journey of becoming, you were the size of a grapefruit. Your papa and I took some time away to be together, smiling all the while at you.

Madeira, Portugal – October 2025