MOTHERHOOD

My very real and raw version of how life changed…forever

May 11, 2026

Unexpectedly pregnant and the first thing I thought was, “I’m not ready to be a teen mom”

…while in actuality I was what they consider a “geriatric pregnancy” 🫠. I still find that term both rude and humbling at the same time.

I don’t mind being called geriatric if it means I’m finally “wise” enough to mother a human. Everyone is different, every path is different, but for me, motherhood before 35 would’ve been the perfect recipe for self-destruction and chaos.

This might be a spicy statement, but I loved being pregnant.

I loved every bit of it. The growing belly, a built in workout buddy, the kicks and punches, the waddle, and the clear skin! I honestly could keep going but I don’t want to lose anyone here 😉 Let’s just say, I may have considered being a surrogate more than once.

Labor. Labor is still the part I am processing daily.

My plan that never happened. The pain, especially mentally and emotionally, that’s etched into my memory. The moment the screen showed one heartbeat instead of two. 30+ hours of laughter, tears, and a broken down body that I am eternally grateful for.

And to my partner, Sadiq — thank you for countering every single contraction. You never left my side and those muscles definitely paid off! In that moment of “give it to God,” I saw the father you were about to become, and I knew our baby would be alright.

Zain—you came a week late only because we evicted you…

If we hadn’t, I’m not sure how long you would’ve squatted. Through all the acupuncture appointments, spicy food and curb walks, you had no desire to move out. I am learning how much all of this reflects your personality — your solid presence and your quiet determination to arrive in your own time.

You have expanded my capacity in ways I never thought possible. You force me to be fully present in every moment. And the best part: your infectious smile that makes the world smile back.

Motherhood.

You think you know what it is until you are thrown into the fire of rebirth and come out a little charred. I’ve cried (a lot) and questioned even more — am I doing this right? Is he developing correctly? Why isn’t my right boob producing as much milk as my left boob? Will my body ever be mine again? My spiraling thoughts, will they slow down? How can I work and mom at the same time? Fuck, why is this so hard? The questions never stop and the moment constantly fades into something new.

When I spiral, I am learning to welcome the opportunity to stay present and invite my shadows to witness the moment we are in, the moment we have created, and the human who came from us.

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