“There’s no “opt out” button. We’re responsible for three small human beings til they reach the age where they can start making life decisions for themselves, pay their own bills, have kids of their own… And even beyond that, I’ll still feel a sense of responsibility towards them. We can’t just switch this parenting thing off whenever we feel like it; it doesn’t just go away whenever you need a break; we have to deal with it, even on our worst days… and the journey has only just begun. Can you believe it?”
These are the types of words that come out of my mouth during conversations with my husband whenever the reality of our lives just hits me.
Pregnancy is probably the most visible physical experience a woman can go through in her lifetime, yet at the same time the most personal. For some, so personal that the goal is to keep it under wraps for as long as possible. From conception to birth, the details, the ups, the downs, the aches and pains… the less is revealed the better. I am (or I have been) one of those women, to a certain extent. Culturally speaking this is how I’ve been raised and these are the beliefs my mother instilled in me. Where I’m from, pregnancy is as biological as it is spiritual. You’re taught to protect the life that is inside of you by revealing as little as possible about it. You’re told pregnancy is a private matter: the unborn baby is precious, and ‘hidden’ for a reason. And I’ve always embraced this way of thinking. 
