I made an interesting discovery this week when I was looking through the bookshelf in my daughter’s room: my pregnancy journal, which I kept up from around the sixth week of my pregnancy until she was born.  I even scribbled down labor/delivery details before tucking it away for almost a year.  Reading through it was like opening a 50-year-old time capsule.  It was a whole other era of me, and even though all the memories and special events of that time are still very much at the forefront of my mind, having some insight into my thoughts and feelings during pregnancy is really strange and funny.  Some thoughts on my discovery:

-I kept a pregnancy journal!  Bahahahaha… This is surely something that could never happen again.

-It is AMAZING to see our first ultrasound pic and then look at my beautiful little girl.  Incredible to think that such a short time ago she was a blueberry living off a yolk sac who we nicknamed “Mr. Hankey” (South Park reference, anyone?), and now she’s a self-feeding, busy, chatty almost-toddler.

-There is an interesting shift in perspective/intended audience at week 17.  I clearly went from keeping the journal for myself to keeping it for my little [insert fruit], writing things like “you moved around a lot this week” instead of just referring to “the baby.”  This is also right around the time that I first felt her kick me – some insight into the point at which impending motherhood became very real.

-I wrote in the journal about our trip to Europe when I was about five months pregnant.  We had a good time overall, though I will admit that it was a pretty terrible idea to be out of the country in a place where we didn’t speak the language during pregnancy.  I was a nervous wreck the whole time.  Funny how I wrote that the trip inspired us to take baby on international vacations when she’s bigger.  Yeah, bigger meaning 30!

-There was a big hole in the month of August where I didn’t write anything and stopped taking weekly pictures.  I remember that was when I started to get really freaked out about my size and the thought of still growing for 3 more months.  It makes me sad to think about being self-conscious when my body was doing such important work, and I wish I could go back and tell my 6-months-pregnant self to be proud rather than to hide or compare myself to others.

-I forgot how much pregnancy sucked.  It is always so interesting to me how our minds filter out so much of the negative.  For me, morning sickness lasted around 15 weeks, though somehow (ICE CREAM) I rallied and still gained plenty of weight.  I had terrible back pain that made it hard to sleep and constant Braxton Hicks that my midwife/OB always brushed off.

-I forgot what a special time my pregnancy was.  If anything, my journal is a little corny, but it’s cute too because it’s clear that I was really excited!  Despite some of the crappy parts, I really did enjoy being pregnant overall, and I know I’ll never have that first pregnancy experience again.

I am really happy in hindsight that I kept my journal.  It is a beautiful record of a really special time and a sweet keepsake for me and my daughter.  It really shows how much I loved her even before she was born.  So ladies, I’m curious – did any of you keep a journal leading up to motherhood?  What is it like for you to look back on that time?

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