By Kelly — mom, survivor of pregnancy hormones, professional overthinker
I remember whispering “thank you” under my breath…
and then immediately crying because my socks felt wrong.
That’s how this started for me.
I was pregnant. I wanted this baby. I had waited for this moment.
And yet, some days I felt like my chest was too tight, my thoughts too loud, and my body no longer belonged to me.
The worst part?
I felt guilty for feeling that way.
The Thing I Was Afraid to Say Out Loud
Here’s something I didn’t admit for a long time:
Some mornings I woke up already overwhelmed — before anything even happened.
Nothing was “wrong.”
No bad news.
No emergency.
Just… heaviness.
And then the inner voice would kick in:
“You should be happy.”
“Other women would kill for this.”
“Don’t complain.”
So I swallowed it.
Smiled.
Said “I’m good.”
Inside, I felt like I was carrying too much inside one body — physically and emotionally.
A Very Real Moment No One Warned Me About
One day, I stood in the kitchen staring at the fridge.
I was hungry.
But everything sounded wrong.
Too heavy. Too light. Too healthy. Too unhealthy.
I closed the fridge and just… cried.
Not because of food.
Because decision-making felt impossible.
That’s when it hit me:
overwhelm doesn’t always look dramatic.
Sometimes it looks like standing still, unable to choose yogurt.
The Mental Load That Comes With “Good News”
When you get pregnant, people celebrate.
What they don’t see is what quietly lands on your shoulders:
- Constant responsibility
- Endless decisions
- Silent fear
- A future that suddenly feels very real
I remember lying awake at night with my hand on my belly thinking:
“Please be okay. Please let me do this right.”
No one was asking me to think those thoughts — but my brain wouldn’t stop.
That’s not negativity.
That’s love mixed with fear.
The Body Stuff (Let’s Not Sugarcoat It)
I loved my baby.
I did not always love pregnancy.
Some days my body felt foreign.
My clothes didn’t fit.
My energy disappeared by noon.
My heart raced for no reason.
I remember thinking:
“If I’m grateful, shouldn’t this feel better?”
But gratitude doesn’t regulate hormones.
It doesn’t stop nausea.
It doesn’t magically give you back your body.
Your body is doing something extraordinary — and extraordinary things are exhausting.
The Pressure to Perform Happiness
This part still makes me roll my eyes.
The comments:
- “Enjoy it!”
- “You’ll miss this!”
- “Pregnancy is such a blessing.”
Yes.
And also — it’s hard.
I learned very quickly that people prefer pregnant women to be quietly grateful, not honestly struggling.
So when I felt overwhelmed, I felt like I was breaking some unspoken rule.
I wasn’t.
The rule was just unrealistic.
Another Confession (The Kind We Don’t Share)
There were moments I thought:
“What if I’m not cut out for this?”
I felt ashamed even thinking it.
But that thought didn’t mean I didn’t love my baby.
It meant I was standing at the edge of a huge life change, scared and aware of my limits.
Confidence doesn’t arrive fully formed.
It grows — slowly — alongside the overwhelm.
Why Gratitude and Overwhelm Can Coexist
Here’s what I know now, from the other side:
You can be thankful and terrified.
You can feel blessed and exhausted.
You can love your baby and miss your old self.
Those feelings don’t cancel each other out.
They sit side by side.
Trying to erase one only makes the other louder.
What Helped Me (In Real Life, Not Instagram)
Not affirmations.
Not “positive vibes only.”
What helped was:
- Saying “this is hard” without apologizing
- Resting without explaining myself
- Talking to another mom who didn’t rush to fix me
- Letting myself feel messy without labeling it as failure
And honestly?
Laughing at how ridiculous some moments were.
Because crying over socks is objectively funny — once you’re not in it.
If This Is You Right Now
If you’re reading this with a knot in your chest, thinking:
“I thought I’d feel happier than this” — please hear me.
You are not broken.
You are not ungrateful.
You are not doing pregnancy “wrong.”
You are experiencing a massive transformation — physically, mentally, emotionally — in a world that expects you to glow through it.
You don’t have to.
You just have to be real.
I’ve been there.
I am still there sometimes — just in different ways now.
And you?
You’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel 🤍
— Kelly
Casey Fisher is a finance whiz by day and a superhero mom by night — and she does it all as a single mom. With two little ones keeping her on her toes, she’s mastered the art of balancing spreadsheets and bedtime stories on her own. Casey’s passion lies in making sense of numbers and the delightful chaos of parenting. Her writing brings a refreshing, witty perspective to the ups and downs of single working mom life, proving that it’s possible to handle boardroom meetings and messy toddler tantrums with equal parts grace and humor.
