It’s been a few weeks since I’ve written anything. I’m finding this period very transitional: still waiting for the little girl we have longed for, while beginning to feel a sense of calm and peace. There is a little more room to look ahead. The grief feels less heavy at the moment, and I’m allowing myself to welcome that feeling.
Pregnancy after loss has been challenging. There has been so much hoping, waiting and trying to believe that this time we might bring our baby home. As I approach the end of this pregnancy, I’m beginning to feel that part of me soften.
Having her will never erase what happened before. Those babies will always be part of our story. But I can also feel something beginning to mend in the part of me that has spent years trying, waiting and searching for our second child. There is room for the sadness of what we lost and the joy of what we hope is coming.
Of course, there will be moments that challenge us as a family. Life with a newborn will bring its own adjustments, and I’m giving myself permission to feel whatever comes. But the thought of bringing this season of fertility struggles to a close brings relief. I’m allowing myself to feel that, too.
Since finishing work, I’ve had a little more space to notice what feels good. I’m still navigating the discomfort of these final weeks of pregnancy, and nesting has completely taken over, but what has been especially lovely is having some one-to-one time with my son. We’ve been painting, creating and going on little coffee dates together. It’s all been quite simple, and I’ve loved being able to give him more of my attention.
I feel less stressed knowing I have that time with him, without always having to think about the next thing I need to get done. With our family about to change, these moments feel especially precious. They’ve also helped me understand what living with intention means to me: making space to enjoy the people I love and being there for the ordinary moments we might otherwise rush through.
These years have changed what matters to me, and I’m beginning to think about how I want everyday life to reflect that. Writing has helped me make sense of those changes, and understand what I want Her Beautiful Life to become.
Pregnancy loss is part of why I started, but this space reaches beyond fertility. I don’t have the answers, although I’m always happy to share our experience if someone finds it helpful. What I hope to build is a community where we can talk about how life changes us, what we need along the way, and how we want to move into our next chapters.
For me, that means paying attention to what I give my time to and how I feel afterwards. Having boundaries that protect my peace, while leaving room for people, spontaneity and new experiences. I want to feel comfortable saying no when I need to, and to notice when I actually want to say yes.
There is comfort in speaking to people who understand the phase of life you’re in. Sometimes a conversation can help you feel less alone, or give you the words for something you haven’t quite been able to explain. Our stories don’t need to be identical, and someone doesn’t have to be going through the same thing to offer understanding. I think so much connection comes from being curious about one another and making room for experiences beyond our own.
That is the kind of community I would love to grow here. Somewhere we can share what we’ve learnt, enjoy being together, and feel able to arrive as we are.
As I think about all of this, I’m also questioning something I’ve carried for years: the idea that keeping myself busy makes me more successful. I’ve always worked hard, and I’m proud of that. But I’ve often measured how well I’m doing by how much I can fit in, how many people need me, and how little space is left in my diary.
Through my work, I speak to women every day who feel overwhelmed and exhausted, yet still feel they should be doing more. I recognise so much of myself in those conversations. It makes me wonder why we so often look at a busy woman and assume she is doing well, without asking how she feels within the life she is holding together.
I know slowing down isn’t always straightforward. There are bills, responsibilities and people who depend on us. I still have ambitions, and there are things I’m excited to work towards. But I want to make space for enjoying the life I’m working so hard to build.
At the moment, that means stripping things back a little. Time with my family, cooking something I enjoy, a conversation that leaves me feeling understood, or a quiet coffee without immediately moving on to the next job. Small moments that deserve a place in my day, even when the to-do list isn’t finished.
I don’t know exactly what my next chapter will look like, but I’m definitely clearer on how I want to live in it. I want to be present for my family, make room for meaningful work and friendships, and give myself permission to enjoy what is already here.
After so many years of waiting, I’m beginning to let myself look forward.