I carried you.
Before I knew your face, before I understood the depth of what your life would mean to mine, I carried you.
Pregnancy is often spoken about as a time of joy, expectation and excitement. But for me, it was something much heavier. It was a time marked by deep emotional struggle, a quiet battle within myself that many people could not see.
I was not okay.
There was a weight I carried that went beyond the physical. A sadness that sat within me, shaping how I experienced each day. Even as you grew inside me, there were moments when I struggled to feel connected to the experience in the way I had imagined.
And yet, you were there.
Growing. Existing. Becoming.
Even in my silence, even in my struggle you were part of me.
Looking back now, I understand that pregnancy is not always a perfect journey. Sometimes it is complicated. Sometimes it is heavy. Sometimes it is filled with emotions that are difficult to explain.
And that does not make it any less real.
It does not make the love any less real.
Because even then, in ways I did not fully understand at the time.
I was already your mother.
