06/09/2026
Scroll through and you’ll see words I wrote this from a hospital bed on 5/31/17, 9 years ago. I was nearing 35 weeks pregnant, terrified, exhausted, swollen, on bed rest with preeclampsia, and convinced my body had failed me. I wrote about feeling like a fraud because I loved pregnancy and birth so much, yet felt “bad at pregnancy.” A week later, my baby girl was born at 5 lbs 5 oz, tiny and perfect and far healthier than I had spent weeks convincing myself she might not be.
At the time, I couldn’t see anything beyond the grief of losing the pregnancy and birth experience I thought I was supposed to have. I couldn’t see past the monitors, the lab draws, the fear, the loss of control, and the overwhelming feeling that I had somehow failed at the one very thing I was building my life around.
But hindsight really is everything.
What I thought would disqualify me as a provider actually shaped me into a better one. It taught me what it feels like to sit on the other side of the conversation. To know the guidelines and still feel scared. To understand the medicine while simultaneously grieving the experience. To feel conflicted between gratitude and disappointment at the same time. To know that someone can be deeply informed, deeply capable, and still deeply heartbroken.
Her pregnancy humbled me in ways I desperately needed. It made me softer, empathetic, and more understanding of the complicated emotions that can exist alongside complicated pregnancies.
And Emilia, who arrived so small and fierce and determined, is now 9 years old today. And just as fierce and determined as ever.
Happy birthday to the little girl who changed me long before I ever realized she did. 💗