It has been a while since I’ve posted here. This third trimester of pregnancy has demanded more rest than I ever expected. It’s funny how drastically my sense of urgency has shifted over the last few months.

My first trimester was marked by fatigue, but not much else symptom-wise. The second trimester brought far more energy and capacity for productivity, save for a week of awful headaches. It transitioned rather seamlessly into the third until I reached about 32 weeks. That was when I truly began experiencing the hardship of sharing my body.

Most of the physical changes I’d experienced were expected- weight gain, shortness of breath, changes in my breasts. None of them really stumped my until the third trimester. Suddenly, nothing I wore felt comfortable or flattering. My mobility became limited, my hips and pelvis ache constantly, and rest offers little relief. It turns out it’s possible to find both activity and stillness uncomfortable.

My sleep has begun suffering again, even with the help of Unisom. Some nights I still manage only a handful of hours of sleep. While I try to will joy at the natural preparation my body is making for the arrival of this baby, I often find myself in a foul mood. My patience is thin, and I feel guilty for how little I contribute around our home.

My husband has done an excellent job of supporting and encouraging me. Although I struggle to believe him, he frequently reminds me that I am doing a wonderful job. One would think this sacrifice would be easy to recognize myself. But it is surprisingly easy to overlook when all I can see is the pile of laundry that hasn’t been done or the empty lunchbox I no longer pack for my husband.

At the same time, I have almost no sense of urgency anymore. I have no reason to rush or strive. The work I have now is internal. I even stopped filling out my daily check-in sheet because my only goals are to rest, stay hydrated, and prepare for baby’s arrival.

A year ago, my days revolved around physical fitness, nutrition, and my career. I loved the discipline of setting goals and challenging myself. Today, my capacity is different. While part of me still longs to accomplish what I once could, I’m learning that this season asks something else of me.

Rather than criticizing myself for what I cannot presently do, I’m learning to embrace this season of rest before the next season begins. Motherhood will bring its own challenge, one that requires a new rhythm of discipline and devotion. I look forward to that challenge, but I’m not going to rush toward it. I suspect I’ll look back on these quiet weeks with a longing for the empty calendar I once had.

More than anything, I hope my children see this in me: that I embrace each season without losing myself. My days may look different, my responsibilities will change, my abilities may vary- but I hope my character remains steady.