I found my “anti blog” the other day. A blog by a woman whose journey could not be more different to mine.
Talk about polar opposites. This lady was the adversary to all of my ramblings. Her stories told how “at one with the earth” she is during her pregnancy and how her soul now felt complete thanks to the miracle of life growing inside of her.
She was 8 weeks pregnant.
Call me cynical. Call me skeptical. Call me jealous. But I don’t get it.
In a way, I wish I did. I wish that I had the intimate and soulful connection to pregnancy that this woman obviously enjoys.
Don’t get me wrong. I am already enamored with the little dude growing inside me and can’t wait to meet him face to face. But I don’t think that my soul feels any more fulfilled now than it did 18 weeks ago. It feels fatter. Or maybe that’s my thighs?
It just goes to show how different every woman’s experience is on this crazy journey to motherhood. Some see rainbows and spirituality and soulful fulfillment. Others see the bottom of a toilet bowl and an endless supply of muffins. Not hard to figure out which end of the spectrum my experience lies.
Her blog has actually played on my mind a little. Made me feel a little guilty perhaps? Am I less of a “mother” because I don’t feel that same connection that she is already feeling? Does it make me less of a woman or less deserving of this little guy that has chosen us to be his family?
I don’t know the answers to these questions. I guess for me, that’s why im writing about my journey. Not just to capture this time in black and white words so I can one day see what I have learnt but to explore how different this journey can be for different women.
So, I’m going to keep reading her blog. Not to judge her or to compare myself to her, but to open my eyes to her journey as well as my own. Maybe her story will give me some insights into how the other half breed. Maybe her story will teach me to see this as something more spiritual. Or maybe it will just make me reach for that muffin and settle in for a chuckle.