Pregnancy brings with it a whirlwind of emotions, and one thing that really gets under my skin is the world of mommy bloggers. As a public relations specialist, I frequently interact with these online personas, and I’m both fascinated and intimidated by their omnipresent knowledge. I know the names and ages of children I’ve never met, the latest trends in pricey baby moccasins that seem destined for a life of kicking off, and how to create adorable DIY bow ties for those cute little necks (even though I’ve never had one to dress up). I can even share tips on how to look like a runway model just moments after giving birth—should that ever be a necessary skill.
But the real source of my anxiety isn’t their impressive domestic skills; it’s their overwhelming love for their children. These women are so enamored with their little ones that they feel compelled to broadcast every adorable milestone to the universe.
As I find myself expecting my first child, I can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. I already have a strong connection with my baby. I cherish the moments when I feel her kicks and dream about the personality she might have. Yet, the thought of publicly celebrating every tiny achievement with joyful posts and perfect pictures sounds utterly exhausting. Right now, I’d rather binge-watch Netflix and munch on cookies while stressing over my never-ending to-do list before I welcome this new life into the world. It’s hard not to compare myself to these blogging dynamos who seem to thrive on sharing their motherhood adventures.
A looming question haunts me: Will I become one of those mommy bloggers once my baby arrives? Writing is what I do, so will my love for my daughter transform her into my only muse? Will I be compelled to document every cute moment—like that time at the zoo when I found a fantastic coupon? (Spoiler alert: you can get that coupon if you follow these 17 easy steps!) Will I inundate social media with photos of her in various flower crowns, making everyone else feel like their lives just don’t measure up? And can we please talk about the flower crowns and those “candid” snapshots that are clearly staged?
What kind of love inspires such behavior? It’s something I’ve yet to experience, and it terrifies me. I adore my husband deeply, but I don’t spend hours crafting adorable hair accessories for him nor do I take photos of him posing with them. I love my dog, too, but I don’t slap a sticker on his back every month and share a post about his latest hobbies—like chewing on the same tennis ball day after day. I know that loving a child is different, but that thought brings its own set of fears.
I suspect my therapist would remind me that this fear stems from knowing that such love can also be lost. Love is inherently risky, but parenthood elevates that risk to a whole new level. It baffles me how parents manage to navigate the reality of loving someone so profoundly while knowing that loss is a possibility. I find it daunting to consider the depth of love I might feel, and honestly, it frightens me.
I wonder when this intense love will manifest. I already have feelings for my daughter, but how will that change once she is in my arms? Will it hit me like a wave of joy when she first smiles at me, or will it unfold gradually? Right now, I mostly stare at my swollen belly while munching on chips to fend off nausea, and I lack that all-consuming maternal bliss. Is that normal? Am I already a bad mom for expressing these thoughts? The questions are endless.
Pregnancy seems to be a constant cycle of inquiries with few answers. Doctors aren’t even fully aware of what goes on in my uterus, and the internet can send me spiraling into panic. Seriously, one simple search can convince you that you’ve developed pregnancy-related cancer and are growing a three-headed baby monster—just based on the color of your nipples!
Ultimately, I know I’ll have to embrace the uncertainty of this journey, surrendering my fears to a higher power that I’m still learning to trust. I need to accept that this pregnancy is genuine, that I am already a mother, and that an extraordinary love awaits me. It will be okay—no, it will be amazing. My identity won’t vanish; I’ll still be me, enriched by a new, adorable companion to share life’s adventures with—whether or not I choose to blog about them. Right? Right? Perhaps I should read a few more mommy blogs for guidance.
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In summary, pregnancy is a time filled with questions, fears, and the promise of an overwhelming love that we all hope to embrace.
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