It's Okay to Not Love Every Moment

First Trimester Feels No One Warned Me About

When I first saw the two pink lines, I expected fireworks. Maybe a soft glow would immediately radiate from my skin, or at the very least, a wave of deep, grounded maternal joy would settle into my bones. Instead, what I felt was... complicated. The kind of complicated that doesn't fit neatly into an Instagram caption. Excitement and panic. Deep love and random dread. A weird combo of "I can't wait" and "What the hell have I done?" It was like someone had handed me a bouquet of hormones, anxiety, gratitude, and nausea—and said, "Good luck, mama." I smiled, cried, then cried about crying. That was week five.

Nobody told me that the first trimester could feel like emotional whiplash. Sure, I'd heard about morning sickness and bloating, but no one warned me that I might mourn my independence, question my identity, or feel disconnected from a pregnancy I'd planned and prayed for. There's this unspoken pressure to feel grateful all the time—like if you wanted this baby, you're not allowed to struggle. But here's the truth: you can want the baby and still not enjoy what's happening to your body or mind. You can be 100% sure this is the path for you and still miss your old self, your freedom, or your jeans that buttoned last month. That doesn't make you a bad mom. That makes you human. And if no one else has said it to you yet—welcome to the club, babe. You're so not alone.

The Myth of "Magical Pregnancy Vibes" (LOL)

Let's be honest: the way first-trimester pregnancy is portrayed in pop culture is borderline comedic. Pinterest boards show sun-drenched nurseries, glowing cheeks, hands lovingly cradling the bump. Meanwhile, my reality looked more like this: I was queasy 24/7, cried over a dog food commercial, and had a running list titled "Things I Used to Enjoy But Now Hate (Thanks, Pregnancy)."

No shade to the moms who really do feel euphoric from day one—but for a huge percentage of us, the first trimester is not a dreamy experience. The hormones? Brutal. The fatigue? Next level. And the emotions? Let's just say I could've starred in my own soap opera. I kept wondering if I was the only one who felt this way, which made everything feel that much heavier. So let me say it now: if you feel overwhelmed, numb, irritable, or just "off" during your first trimester, that is so valid. You are not broken. You are adjusting. And it's a lot.

All the Messy Emotions, None of the Warnings

The thing about early pregnancy is that it sneaks up on your emotional system like a surprise party—only instead of balloons and cake, you get mood swings, intrusive thoughts, and unexplained sobbing. It's not just the what of what you feel, it's the intensity. You may go from joy to despair to guilt all before lunch.

Here are some common but rarely discussed first-trimester emotional curveballs:

• Regret: Even in planned pregnancies, it's totally normal to think, "What have I done?" That thought doesn't mean you don't love your baby. It means your life is changing—fast—and your brain is catching up.
• Guilt: "Other people have it worse" guilt. "I should be more grateful" guilt. "Why can't I enjoy this?" guilt. It's relentless—and unhelpful. Let's stop assigning shame to emotional reactions that are completely normal.
• Grief: Yes, grief. For your independence. Your pre-baby body. The version of yourself you've known forever. This doesn't make you selfish. It makes you honest.
• Loneliness: Even with a loving partner, early pregnancy can feel incredibly isolating—especially if you haven't told many people yet. And especially if your inner world feels so different from how you thought it would.

"If I Feel This Way Now… What Does That Say About Me?"

This question haunted me. If I was already feeling so overwhelmed, how would I handle birth? Or sleep deprivation? Or toddler tantrums? I started doubting whether I was truly cut out for motherhood. Cue spiral.

But then a therapist friend of mine gently reminded me: Feeling conflicted about a big life transition is not a sign of failure—it's a sign that you're aware, introspective, and emotionally engaged. You're not emotionally malfunctioning—you're adapting. Rapidly. In your body, your identity, your relationships, your future.

So please hear this: you don't have to love every part of pregnancy to be a devoted mom. You don't need to be glowy and ethereal and journaling daily affirmations. You just need to show up for yourself with as much compassion as you can muster—and that counts.

What Actually Helped (When Everything Felt Like Too Much)

Let's get practical. These are the things that kept me from totally unraveling—and no, they're not all deep spiritual practices. Some are just "get through the day" tools. Because sometimes surviving is thriving.

1. Micro-goals for the win.

"Shower before noon." "Drink water that isn't coffee." "Open a window." That's it. No productivity pressure. Just bite-sized wins that help you stay grounded.

2. Emotional offloading with safe people.

Talking to people who don't try to fix you—that's the key. Look for the friends who respond with "same, girl" instead of "have you tried positive thinking?"

3. Boundaries with Dr. Google.

The internet is great until it's 2AM and you're deep in a Reddit thread about miscarriage symptoms and suddenly can't breathe. Ask your OB or midwife the weird stuff. Not TikTok.

4. Create "emergency joy" kits.

Mine had: fuzzy socks, a vanilla candle, watermelon Jolly Ranchers, and an episode of The Office on standby. Sounds silly. Worked wonders.

5. Affirmations that don't feel fake.

Forget toxic positivity. Use words that validate the hard while honoring your strength:

"I can do hard things, even when I feel small."
"My emotions are temporary. They don't define me."
"I'm allowed to feel everything—and still be a good mom."

What That Parking Lot Cry Really Taught Me

Yep, the iconic moment: me, in a parking lot, sobbing into my steering wheel because I forgot to buy bananas and also because the world just felt too loud. At first I thought, "Get it together." But something in me softened and whispered: Or don't.

That breakdown turned into a breakthrough. I didn't have to be serene. I didn't have to fake joy. I could just... feel it all. I could let myself be in it without judgment. And that tiny act of self-compassion? It changed everything.

Because the sooner we accept that first-trimester emotions are complex, the sooner we can meet ourselves with grace instead of shame. That's how we build resilience. That's how we start mothering—ourselves first.

If You're in It Right Now, Let Me Hold Your Hand (Virtually)

You're not crazy. You're not broken. You're not a bad mom.

You're in the messy middle of a life-altering shift—and that deserves so much tenderness.

So here's your permission slip:

• To not enjoy every moment
• To not feel instantly bonded
• To not be Pinterest-perfect
• To feel everything, then feel something new 5 minutes later

This is the part they don't put in the baby books. But it matters. And so do you.

💗 We Got This

So cry in the parking lot. Call your bestie. Eat the gummy worm. Skip the gender reveal planning if you don't have the energy. And know that you're doing this—and doing it beautifully, even if it's messy.

You've got this, mama.

And I've got your back.