I wrote this almost 2 years ago as a very inflated (physically) version of myself.

I'm sitting at my desk on my slowly deflating exercise ball, typing away while crunching on some chamoe (a Korean summer melon that tastes like the agricultural lovechild of a cantaloupe and a cucumber). I'm currently 39 weeks pregnant and eagerly awaiting the arrival of our baby.

My husband is sitting next to me, watching episodes of the live-action One Piece. By the pace of the Korean subtitles at the bottom of his screen, he's speed-watching. Months from now, will I reminisce on this quiet summer night of anticipation and struggle to remember life before our baby?

Pregnancy 

Everything about my pregnancy so far has felt very natural and normal. For once, my body feels like it is actually in control of itself and doing what it is meant to be doing. Most of the time, I feel like an octopus trying to learn the art of sushi making; very awkward and not in control of my appendages.

None of that octopus sushi-making is going on here. (By the way, what a morbid thing it is to let an octopus take a sushi class? For the record, and I can't believe I even have to clarify this, I am very against teaching cephalopods how to artfully and delicately prepare members of their own family for human consumption).

I have fallen in love with my body, almost as if for the first time. I am in awe of seeing what it can do and how strong it can truly be. Note to self: Be kinder to your body after pregnancy; it's more beautiful and precious than you ever knew. 

Pregnancy is the perfect obstacle course to help launch you into the whole motherhood thing. Being forced to slow down, rest, listen to my body, take my time with things, and be more patient with myself will come in handy with a little human in my life.

Before pregnancy, I only really took breaks from my metaphorical hamster wheel to rehydrate and catch up on sleep. The rest of the time, it was full speed ahead, with my little legs running for their lives and my torso bobbling around, trying not to topple over. Or the other way around, I don't really know how anatomy works.

Mum-postor syndrome

I have this weird insecurity that I am too young to become a mum. I think it's safe to say that twenty-seven is actually not too young to become a mother, and it's definitely all in my jelly brain.

I think what I have been feeling is more likely to be a classic case of impostor syndrome (I renamed it 'mum-postor syndrome' to sound more fun and quirky).

As far as I know, I've never been a mum before. I've never navigated life with a child, so how could I not feel like a mum-postor?

Scrolling through my Instagram feed, I'm faced with tips and tricks from mummy bloggers talking very gently yet judgementally about how to change nappies properly, which death contraptions to avoid, and how to raise a semi-decent human who doesn't absolutely hate your guts.

"Hey guys, here are all the reasons you suck at being a mum *upbeat copyright-free music plays in the background*. But don't worry, if you sign up for a 4-year eBook probiotic green juice online course, you can become a better mum who raises a small nest of tech billionaire prodigies".

"Oh, your son couldn't launch a multi-billion dollar app that we all spend too much time hating ourselves on? It's because you supplemented your breastmilk with formula, you actual monster".

...and things of that nature. I used hyperbole here for the sake of anonymity, but they know who they are.

I've learned that I am not too young and there is no perfect time to have a child. It doesn't make sense to wait a few more years to do something I want because I feel I need to become a certified girlboss before giving birth. Which is totally profound if you read it with one eye closed. The truth of the matter is that being a mother is going to be hard no matter when you choose to do it. Your vagina is going to be shredded to pieces, so you may as well do it while you're young and nimble.

We're all just tiny specs rowing our boats, choosing which way to row and when we want to get there. Sure, some people think there is a finish line and try to get there a little bit faster, but we don't need to worry about those specs. We could all stand to keep our proverbial sails up a little longer and savour the fresh air and the scenery around us.

Wow, this boat analogy went downstream really fast. The moral of the story is to take care of your boat and let it take you as fast or slow as your heart desires, and teach a man to fish so he can feed his family for generations to come.

Becoming a mother

I am so excited to be a mother and watch my tiny human grow, learn, and explore the world. I want to show him what joy looks like, how to think kindly of himself and others and watch him follow his curiosities and the questions he has about our big and beautiful world. How lucky am I that I get to help him do these things?

I'm ready to learn more about myself. I'm ready to see the world through a fresh pair of eyes and marvel at the things I may have missed or forgotten about in the chaos of daily life.

I'm ready to be a constant source of reliability and safety for a little human, figuring out how absolutely everything works, how to express his emotions, and what the heck chopsticks are all about. I'm ready to see just how much I still have to learn about myself and the growth I will continue to do as my own human person.

What in the actual heck is success anyway?

When I moved abroad, nothing stressed me more than thinking about my next career move or how I could make more money and succeed. I was also worried about accidentally getting arrested for tax fraud but that may be less relevant here. 

Lately, these thoughts have slowed down to the point where I can't hear them much at all. (Not the tax fraud one though, that is very much still my biggest irrational fear in life).

I'm much less worried about my future because I now have this annoyingly optimistic excitement about what will come. 

This pregnancy has helped me question these fears and ask what it was that I was actually afraid of and what in the actual heck is success anyway? The word success has a suspicious amount of 'ss' sounds in it for it to have any weight as an important word.  

I am a happy human with dreams and hopes and good habits and an electric toothbrush. I sleep well at night and write in my journal and find beauty in just about everything in the world. I like saving money and I've never been fired from a job and I get paid to do something that I'm qualified to do and am passionate about. I also get to be married to my best friend and eat yummy food with him all the time and sit in comfortable silence and roll around laughing until we forget why we were laughing.

I really don't know where this idea of success comes from but I say that we bury it in the ocean with a bunch of nuclear waste. They might take the same amount of time to be eradicated from the earth but need to be dumped nonetheless.

What Makes Me Successful: 

• I'm pretty good at doing stuff
• I like myself a lot actually 
• I think I can do anything I set my mind to
• And I think things just have a way of kind of working out, even when it seems like they won't