A mom-to-be in her thirties…

Well, I’ve always loved being a young mom in my twenties, and as a mother, the most beautiful period of my life so far was when Rú was little. I’m not saying I didn’t have my tired days (and time does tend to beautify memories), but basically, as a twenty-something mom, I didn’t find it hard to stay up at night, wake up early, rest irregularly, be in several places at once, and handle many things simultaneously. You learn how to bend space, time, and your own energy levels in a way that somehow even entertains you.

As a mom in my thirties, though, it’s startling how differently my body reacts—even just to pregnancy. I’m noticing sensitivities I never had before, having wildly vivid dreams (honestly, they could be turned into movies), and I find myself fitting the typical pregnancy stereotypes much more easily than when I was in my twenties, listening to them with an understanding, youthful smile and thinking they were quite the exaggeration.

It probably also has a lot to do with the fact that this time I had to experience pregnancy in a new country, while dealing with all the interrelated administrative processes—residency registration, health insurance, residence permit, sending endless paperwork and declarations to Hungarian authorities again and again, transferring pregnancy care into a new healthcare system, finding doctors, midwives, hospitals, and generally adjusting to a new rhythm after moving, with Rú starting a new school as a teenage boy navigating a German-speaking environment in English, facing high expectations (while still finding time to relax, prepare for his now international sports competitions, visit family, and maintain or build friendships).

Meanwhile, managing property affairs in Hungary from abroad and keeping an eye on investments (with an incredible team!) is just the cherry on top.

So, to be honest, as a pregnant woman in my thirties, I do feel the weight of it more, yet I’m also more open to solutions I used to laugh at during my first pregnancy—like yoga (instead of krav maga and kettlebell training :D), or being much less strict about my diet (I basically eat what I crave, ideally in moderation—which I mostly fail at). But the most noticeable difference is that I’m mentally much more focused—both in handling administrative tasks and in finding my place, along with my pregnancy, in the bigger picture of my life.

In short, I feel my age, because thirteen years is thirteen years no matter how you look at it between two pregnancies. But I’ve gained so much experience during this time, overcome so many challenges, and made countless compromises, that even though I physically feel this pregnancy more, I think I’ve gathered just enough wisdom to make this period easier not only for myself but for my family as well. The calmer I stay during these last days before the birth, the more we can all feel the shared excitement of waiting. And I still love waking up in the morning knowing—even before I open my eyes—that today is also going to be entirely different from all the others, because there’s someone inside me who can’t wait to meet us. It’s like every morning begins with a gift I’ve already received but can’t unwrap just yet.