To all the first-time mamas and pregnant ladies right now…

I feel for you.

I can only imagine that this wasn’t the world you pictured would be welcoming your baby. Your belly is growing week-by-week while the world changes tides, washing a few pieces of your pregnancy away along with it.

I can’t imagine the irreplaceable moments, missed. Your friends and family won’t feel the belly kicks or be able to watch you and baby grow. Through the weeks, there won’t be guesses based on how your belly is sitting, won’t be the mocktails out with friends, or the comedy of buying a six-pack for your husband at the grocery store.

You’ll experience less of that crazy kindness that comes with having a pregnant belly — from grocery clerks, random strangers, and customers in line ahead of you. Or even the numerous rounds of two-punch questions: “When are you due?” and, “Is it a [insert boy/girl]?”. There won’t even be the occasional stranger’s hand on your belly that we all hear about.

I can’t imagine the grief of having to skip the shopping, registry scanning, baby shower, and nursery-showings — those things that are meant to be done with your partner, family, and friends in anticipation of this little bundle of joy. And those natural conversations these outings bring out, about baby’s eye color, your nursery theme, or plans for art around the crib. I would have missed even the pre-maternity leave work celebrations and fun of dressing my bump on the daily.

I’m sorry for all the mothers who may have to skip sharing that last ultrasound, when you can start to make out their scrunched up little face, even in pixelated black-and-white. You’ll keep that face in your mind up until it reveals itself live in screaming color.

I’m scared for all the mothers who may have to give birth alone, or who had plans for a home or hospital birth suddenly changed.

And there will even be the frivolous things: getting your hair, ‘brows, or nails done before baby’s arrival. Scheduling that pregnancy massage. Or taking a baby moon away.

I’m starting to imagine empty space in place of excited smiles during those appointments that were slated to share the heartbeat with other ears or ultrasound with more eyes — whether it be your husband, partner, a friend, or mother. I’ll have to experience this, too, along with chatting with my OB through a mask, and thinking twice when I reach out to get my last set of ultrasound photos.

There are the worries and un-answerable questions that we all have swimming around in our heads. Stacking these on top of first-time questions about birth, delivery, breastfeeding, or babywearing seems overwhelming… it hurts to feel a first-time mother going at it alone without classes, chats with new moms, or nurturing experts.

I wish for new mothers to find all the support that they’ll need — even if six feet away — as they join this world called motherhood. This world that already feels so extremely, terrifyingly, and beautifully new in even its purest, bare basics.

There will be all the things big and small that this pandemic will alter. But there will also be all the things it cannot change.

In this world of “can’t,” we can still pause and enjoy this moment, in its own unique way.

You can take the quiet time to reflect and prepare. To reflect on your own childhood and think of your impending motherhood. To plan ahead and control what you can, or to just relax and spend the afternoon on the couch.

You can still nest at home. You can still read, anticipate and savor.

And when you meet your baby, it will all melt away. Your world will be just as confusing and beautiful and heartfelt as it ever was before delivery, except with purpose. It will feel like every bit of it was gently pieced apart and rebuilt — all to prepare for your expanded heart, forever after that little heart you created.

And speaking of that little heart and ticklish belly, those tiny feet up to their smiling eyes…they will all become your whole new world.

Originally posted on mamasnewnormal.com.