Garance Galore

Oh, motherhood. The privilege of carrying a baby. A privilege I have always recognized and prayed for. As far as I can remember, I have always wanted to become a mother, raise a child, a loved adult. My greatest ambition. But I have dreamed of this sacred mission in a very realistic way. I knew that pregnancy was not only a journey of happiness and excitement but that it could also be synonym of pain, fear and drastic changes. But I needed more to be discouraged, much more. 

I am having a rather smooth pregnancy so far, put aside the craziness of the first trimester. I don’t sleep as well, my back and legs are starting to get tired and I struggle to stay focus but I do feel this rush of excitement and love, whenever I feel the discomfort of my baby’s kicks.

The kicks, them too, are not only cute and special. They sometimes feel like this body of mine isn’t only mine anymore. Showing me the path I chose for my life, this life of sacrifice. Sacrifice, I am not using this word lightly, no. I choose to write it with all of its meanings, but in an attempt to focus on the beauty of the word: sacrifice. I am nurturing you, I will take care of you and I will always worry for you. 

The physical exhaustion isn’t the only thing keeping me up a night. Sometimes I think about the meaning of it all. What does it mean to become a mother? A good mother? And the more I think, the blurrier it becomes. I know our baby will be raised in a loving home, the result of a beautiful union, of two soulmates wanting to share love and life, really, that is all I really know. 

Change is the only thing that seems to be certain. The sizes, the milestones, my body. It all changes, it is all changing. And these days, weeks, months, I am finding peace in change.