The Last Days of Me: Reflections on My Third Trimester

The third trimester feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing you’re about to leap into a darkness filled with unknowns. Will the landing be soft, or will it meet you with sharp edges?

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My body was busy preparing for the arrival of my first child, however, nervousness shadowed every thought, sleep was nonexistent, and the bathroom became the local hotspot. My feet swelled in ways I did not think possible, and nesting instincts crept in like a quiet, insistent whisper: “Be prepared. Organize. Have you created an investment portfolio for her yet.”

Okay, the last one was a joke sort of. But honestly, we all need to create investment portfolios or buy bonds so our children can have some sort of leg up in life. Motherhood is literally filled with depth and valleys, from diaper sizes to daycare budgeting woes.

Every day brought a mixture of awe and anxiety. I found myself thinking about this little human who had been growing inside me, imagining their tiny hands and their voice, and wondering how life as I knew it could possibly accommodate this new, all-consuming love.

There’s a strange grief in realizing that the birth of your child also marks the death of your old life. Not literal death, but your mourning of what was from routines, independence, even the way your brain once thought.

The routines you knew, the independence you took for granted, even the way your brain thinks everyday; everything begins to shift. I thought I could hang onto the “old me,” that I’d just slide seamlessly into this next chapter.

Realistically, I was very mistaken. My brain started proceeding with caution, weighing decisions differently, feeling the weight of change in ways I couldn’t anticipate.

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And there’s beauty in it too. A humbling, almost sacred beauty. It’s the feeling that your child has chosen you, just as much as you have chosen them. I thought about releasing the ‘old me.’ She carried me through 29 years of growth, challenges, and heartbreak.

She helped, she harmed, she taught. But it was time for a new version of me to emerge, it was time for this new era of myself to form. We have overcome so much together, it was time for this new journey..

Now, people do talk about this love — the unexplainable, all-encompassing love that fills you the moment you meet your baby. Until you are on that table holding the human being that has grown inside you for nine months, you don’t fully understand it. It’s a love that links your life, your partner’s life, and your child’s life forever, in a way that nothing else can. I remember once I saw Jordyn just fully crumbling into a babbling baby, knowing that she’s here, she’s real, and she’s mine.

*Maybe it was the drugs from surgery, but no, I bawled like a baby the moment I saw Jordyn.

She was here, real, and mine

The third trimester taught me to accept change not entirely gracefully but accept it, with no choice whether I was ready or not. It taught me patience, resilience, and the deep, unshakable bond that awaited me on the other side of labor. It reminded me that life isn’t always about control; sometimes it’s about surrendering to what is coming, trusting that your heart is big enough to hold it all.

And when your child finally arrives, it’s transformative in ways that are both terrifying and beautiful. The “old me” may be gone, but in its place is a version of myself I never knew I needed: stronger, softer, braver, and bound by a love that is infinite and wholly new.

The leap of the cliff didn't end me, it created me, anew!