The dark side of pregnancy
As a coach and storyteller dedicated to supporting women through transformative moments, I wrote this letter for those who are pregnant or planning to be. In it, I aim to demystify the emotional-hormonal rollercoaster and spiritual alchemy of pregnancy. I’ll share insights from my own experience and offer the guidance I wish I had received. Stay tuned until the end for these tips. Buckle up—it's a wild ride.
“She felt that she was close to death. The thought that pregnancy could have such harrowing moments has never occurred to me. My mother and the other women around me had only talked about a miraculous transformation, the incredible experience of childbirth, and now it turns out they had nausea the whole time and felt awful. Of course, there’s joy too, heaps of it; like when we talk about names or imagine the child’s face. But I saw that coming, I expected it; the darkness was a surprise.”
During my pregnancy, I often received the well-meaning advice to "enjoy this beautiful period." However, this was difficult to embrace during the challenging early months when I felt awful. As I progressed and began to genuinely enjoy my pregnancy, I realized that many women might remember the joyful moments more vividly than the difficult ones. Pregnancy, after all, is a complex experience—undeniably beautiful but not always pretty. It encompasses a spectrum of symptoms and emotions, sometimes fluctuating drastically within the same day, hour, or even minute. I felt these changes on the deepest level.
Early on in my pregnancy, I frantically texted my sister, a mother herself, asking, "What do I need?" She replied with a list of practical resources: stretchy underwear, a workout app for moms, etc. While helpful, I now realize I was asking a deeper question: What the hell is happening here? I was seeking soul guidance.
When it comes to pregnancy, the focus is, understandably, on the physiological transformation—after all, you’re growing a human being. There are endless resources on physical growth, but that’s not what you’ll find here. In this letter, like all my others, I delve into the underbelly of the experience (pun intended). We don’t become mothers overnight; the evolution is superslow, a painstaking reminder that we can’t reach the other side without feeling it all, without carrying the weight, without swelling with life.
“In the early stages, pregnancy is like an invisible being that sucks all your energy and makes you feel ill”
You may have already heard of pregnancy being compared to a rollercoaster: one moment you're high with excitement, the next you’re nauseous and screaming.
Every pregnancy has its highs and lows. Spiritually, the start of mine (and even the pre-conception phase) felt like the beginning of an intense psychedelic ceremony. Old baggage and deep, intergenerational grief surfaced, overwhelming me with bottomless weeping, accompanied by relentless nausea.
I now realize I was being asked to step into the void, to shed layers of who I had been in this world, and make way for who I was becoming.
My experience followed an arc, going from worse to better—a hero’s journey of sorts. This is highly subjective; for some women, the beginning is a breeze and the late stages are difficult, while for others, there's no arc at all. There’s a slew of psycho-somatic changes and hormonal fluctuations felt by the masses, though in varying order and intensity. Of the physical symptoms I experienced during my 10-month journey (yes, 10, not 9), and there were many, nausea was my nemesis- even worse than the late stage weight and body aches. Nausea affected my psyche, behavior, mood, and attitude, made me extremely uncomfortable and cranky. I often struggled to focus and felt irritable. During a trip to Iceland with friends, my nausea was so severe that I irrationally blamed my misery on the country itself. Other notable symptoms included body fatigue, drowsiness, and sleepiness. Managing these physical challenges defined much of this stage for me and worsened my disconnection from myself — because I felt debilitated from doing anything that might have helped bring me back to center.
A tough realization during this period was feeling dissonant with people. I had no close friends going through it at the same time. I often felt lonely and misunderstood. While hosting a work event, some collaborators who hadn't experienced pregnancy grew impatient or irritated with my needs and requests for extra help. I learned that while the changes seemed obvious to me, they were not obvious to others. I had to learn to communicate more clearly. Everyone views experiences through their own lens and needs time to adjust. Frankly, I was pretty clueless about what pregnant women went through before my own experience. This was an early lesson in people’s limitations throughout the journey. Going forward, I knew I needed more people in my community who just got it.
“I’m back in the land of the living after days when the nausea left me unable to do anything beyond hugging my heated body pillow, or the nearest cushion”
I grew impatient with the messiness of my inner world, feeling lost and disoriented. Simply put, I didn’t feel like myself for a very long time.
At a sound ceremony, I shared my grievances with the facilitator who reminded me: What you resist, persists… In retrospect, I was eager to “arrive” somewhere, I wanted to feel the magic I had heard about— or some relief, at the very least. But as badly as I wanted to settle into the experience, rushing it was impossible. My body needed her time. Eventually, after months of laying low at home, Josh and I had a pre-planned trip to Amsterdam coming up. Still traumatized from Iceland, I worried I couldn't do it. As someone with insatiable wanderlust, this was hard to believe. However, knowing I wasn’t traveling alone and that the worst of the sickness had subsided gave me courage. And I’m so glad I went.
I wrote this in my journal on the flight back home from Amsterdam:
— “For the first time in so long, I feel connected to myself, to my gifts, to pure joy. This is reminding me that there will be long periods where I feel disconnected and lost. In those times, I need to give myself permission to stay lost and stop searching. When the light seems impossible to find, may I place a hand on my heart and trust the light is here, even if I cannot see it. I will slow down and stop forcing, knowing that when I least expect it, the feeling will come on its own time.”
On top of the hormonal and emotional fluctuations, my pregnancy unfolded in parallel to the genocide of Palestinians in Gaza and an unexpected friendship ghosting that devastated me. Life doesn’t stop when we are pregnant; instead, everything is amplified and underscored. We are stretched beyond our limits to feel more and be more. When a friend I considered a sister walked out of my life without explanation, I eventually realized it prepared me to hold my son’s hand through life's biggest heartbreaks. As I cracked over the violence in Palestine, wondering what kind of world I was bringing my son into, the answer I kept hearing was: the kind of world we need to create.
Everything that happened during my pregnancy was expanding my soul for motherhood. Trust, everything happening during this time is meant for you to embody your next evolution more fully and readily.
Pregnancy teaches profound lessons on transformation, highlighting the struggle of the in-between—where who you were is gone and who you are becoming is still unfolding. It is a unique liminal space between dimensions, where you usher a new spirit into the world. This inherently spiritual journey is the ultimate task bestowed upon us by the divine and one of the most important, if not the most important, initiations of our lives.
The dissonance I felt at the beginning of my pregnancy eventually reached a peak. Whether it's a devastating breakup or leaving an unsustainable job, anything misaligned with your path will eventually fall away. As difficult as it is, let it go. It's creating space for what aligns more truly with your next evolution. Early in my pregnancy, people assured me that I would build a new, more aligned community of friends. I was skeptical, but slowly and surely, it began to happen. Life reorganizes around new beginnings, revealing truths and forming new villages, even as some people and things are left behind.
Befriend time, and you’ll see: every step of the way is perfectly orchestrated for you.
Trust that it’s not a regression; it’s an upgrade.
Trust that it’s not death; it’s rebirth.
Trust that your body knows what to do.
Trust that people can only meet you as far as they’ve met themselves.
Trust that when things fall apart, it doesn’t need to make sense.
Trust and let go.
Trust and let in.
You’re in for the greatest love alchemy. We’re meant to go through it all to make way for the biggest love initiation of your life. No mess, no magic.
“It was our moment for swelling the world.
We were making people.”
SOULFUL GUIDANCE
Spiritual themes
Evolution is slow. The beginning may be foggy—don't rush to escape it.
Stay present with the discomfort. Inhale, exhale.
Resist, and you get dragged; adapt, and you evolve. Notice your resistance to change. Adjust your environment, habits, relationships, and work.
Let go of expectations—of the experience, yourself, and others.
If people don’t show up for you, let them.
You’re not lost; you’re being reborn. This phase may feel disorienting, but it's the start of a profound metamorphosis.
Trust your body. This prepares you for the ultimate trust ceremony: birth.
Embrace the Love Alchemy. The fog and discomfort precede the greatest initiation of your life. This is deep, transformative alchemy.
The in-between moments are the hardest but also the crux of transformation. In the depths of the unknown, your past self is gone, and your future self is still emerging, preparing you to embody the mother identity.
Every step of the way is perfectly orchestrated for you, in this non-linear path, stretching your capacity to hold what's to come.
Emotional themes
Healing your inner child and your relationship with your body can be the most impactful work you do before motherhood. My own journey of deepening my embodiment practice and inner child healing over the past years laid the foundation for my transition into motherhood. If this resonates with you, join my Freedom Path Fall cohort. Together, we'll work through repressed emotions and create space for your next evolution, whether that’s motherhood or another transformative path.
Your friendships and relationships will shuffle and reorganize, which might break your heart—but you will survive. This process is part of an upgrade that brings emotionally generous people into your life, benefiting not only you but also your growing family.
Communication is essential: share with your partner and/or anyone else who can support you. Let them know what you're experiencing emotionally. They can't read your mind, and during this time, being understood is more important than ever.
Bonus: Practical takeaways:
Avoid the Google and Reddit alarmist culture. Resist the urge to google every little thing you feel.
Be honest about what’s helping versus harming by listening to your intuition. The books about physiological and hormonal changes can only provide so much comfort. Your intuition is your guide through pregnancy and beyond.
Do the bare minimum. Don’t judge yourself for wanting to lie down all day.
Forgive yourself. Brain fog is real, and you may say and do things imperfectly.
Change your environment. Take a trip somewhere new or simply a walk in nature. In spaces, you may begin to feel like yourself again.
Refresh your system of support for this season.
Maintain a moisturizing and/or bath ritual to help with stretch marks (on belly and beyond) and connecting to baby. *Make a baby playlist to listen to in the bath.
Conserve your energy for the big day. Relaxation is key to preparing for birth: massage, bodywork, baths. Will dedicate an upcoming piece to Birth.
Slow down and rest. That's it, if you take away one thing from this letter: go superslow.
