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Revealing your expericences and what helped: More real, less fake.
I’ve been thinking a lot about change lately - not just the kind that’s visible (like a growing belly or an expanding to-do list), but the kind that quietly reshapes your entire life without warning you first.
Dr. Tim Sharp (a.k.a. Dr. Happy) recently wrote about The Hidden Challenges of Making Life Changes That No One Talks About, and it couldn’t have landed in my inbox at a better time. Because while I’m thrilled to be welcoming baby number two, I’m also deep in the part no one writes cards about; the real, relentless shift happening behind the scenes.
Add in his other piece, ‘Why Nice People Don’t Finish Last’, and suddenly the threads began to weave together: kindness, transition, identity, support, asking for help, accepting it.
So I decided; this time, I’m doing it differently.
When I had my first baby, I didn’t do it alone. I had my family around me in Australia - a solid, loving circle to lean on. But I also went all in on doing it “right.” Every product, every must-have, every shiny, newborn-specific thing on the market. Bought brand new, researched extensively like there was some secret to uncover that would unlock being ‘successful’ at Motherhood. And honestly? Most of it barely made it past six months (if it was used at all).
What stayed with me wasn’t the stuff - it was the meals. The knowing check-ins. The company. The quiet care.
Now, I’m 35 weeks pregnant, a solo founder of a newly launched business, parenting a four-year-old, and, yes, officially in “geriatric pregnancy” territory (cheers for that label). And I’m living far from family. This pregnancy has been humbling in ways I didn’t expect, and it’s made me even more intentional.
But here’s the beautiful part: I’ve got a village here now. A group of wildly kind and generous friends in Scotland. People who show up. People I’ve had to learn how to let in. Because this time around, I’m realising that help isn’t just a luxury - it’s the only way through.
And oh, you know what else I’m doing (as a little side note)?
I’m not prefacing every visit from a friend with a “sorry for the mess.” I’m so done with that. Our living spaces are sometimes more chaos than calm, more cereal bowls than centrepieces, and that’s more than okay - it’s where we live life. And you know what? My friends genuinely don’t care. If anything, I think the quiet noting of that honesty and acceptance makes them feel a little more seen, too.
In Dr. Happy’s words, “kindness is a strength, not a weakness.” That includes the kindness we show to ourselves. The softness of accepting help when it's offered. The logic of leaning into what’s actually supportive, instead of what we’ve been told we need via commercialised gift guides and curated “must-haves”.
So instead of another checklist of baby gadgets or nursery must-haves, here’s my version of a fourth trimester “anti-gift guide.” It’s not fluffy, but it’s deeply considered and helpful. It’s grounded in food, body, and a calm environment - because that’s what this season really needs.
(A.K.A. the things that will actually help us thrive)
Food is the hero. Full stop.
Self Care + Movement
Calm Home + Headspace
I’m not trying to do it all. I’m not trying to get it “right.” I’m trying to be supported. I’m leaning into help, into kindness, into systems that honour what this next season really is: a life transition, not just a baby one.
The science says kindness makes us more resilient, more successful, more grounded. The lived experience tells me it’s true.
So here’s to the real list. The things that help when the hormones hit and the house is a mess. The kindness we give and accept. The support that actually supports.