30 Weeks Pregnant and Stepping Into 2026 With a Full Heart

I’m 30 weeks pregnant as I write this, which feels both wildly real and somehow still imaginary. The calendar flipped to 2026, the holidays are packed away, and suddenly the countdown feels louder. There’s a baby coming. Soon. And life is shifting again.

This pregnancy has felt different than I expected. Not bad, just layered. More thoughtful. More emotional. Less about the novelty and more about the impact on everyone already here.

A New Year That Feels Like a Threshold

There’s something about a new year that makes everything feel exposed. Fresh notebooks, clean calendars, and that quiet pressure to have it all figured out. Except I don’t. I’m 30 weeks pregnant, tired in a bone-deep way, excited in bursts, anxious in others, and trying to step into 2026 with honesty instead of pretending I have it all together.

This year isn’t about resolutions for me. It’s about readiness. Emotional readiness. Family readiness. Making space without accidentally pushing someone out.

Loving This Baby and Holding Worry at the Same Time

I love this baby already. That part is easy to say and easy to feel. The harder part is admitting the worry that lives alongside that love.

I worry about how much will change. I worry about how stretched I’ll feel.

I worry about how my attention will be divided in ways it never has been before.

And most of all, I worry about Oliver.

Oliver Is Five and Notices Everything

Oliver is five, which means he’s old enough to understand that something big is happening but too young to fully grasp what it means for him long term.

He hears the word “baby” constantly. He sees packages arrive. He notices the whispers and plans and conversations that don’t include him.

Sometimes he’s excited. He’ll talk about being a helper, a big brother, showing the baby toys. Other times, his questions land heavier.

“Will you still play with me?”“Will the baby sleep in your room?”“Do you still love me the same?”

Those questions don’t come from jealousy. They come from uncertainty. And they remind me that inclusion isn’t automatic just because we say it is.

Inclusion Is Something You Have to Practice

I’ve realized that making Oliver feel included isn’t about big gestures. It’s about consistency.

It’s inviting him into conversations instead of talking around him. It’s letting him help with small decisions, even if they don’t really matter. It’s reminding him with actions, not just words, that he still belongs at the center of our family.

Some days that looks like asking his opinion on baby clothes. Some days it’s carving out time that’s just ours. Some days it’s simply acknowledging that it’s okay for him to feel unsure or even upset.

I don’t want him to feel like life suddenly became a waiting room where he’s no longer the main character.

Baby Showers and Mixed Feelings

Baby showers are coming. Planning them feels exciting and strange all at once.

There’s joy in being celebrated. There’s gratitude for the love and support. And there’s also that quiet awareness that this isn’t my first time stepping into motherhood.

This shower feels less about gifts and more about community. About reassurance. About marking a transition rather than starting from scratch.

I’m trying to approach it intentionally. Including Oliver where it makes sense. Letting him know these celebrations aren’t replacing him but expanding our story.

The Physical Reality of 30 Weeks

At 30 weeks, my body reminds me daily that I’m not in control the way I used to be.

Sleep comes in fragments.Movement takes more planning.Energy arrives unpredictably and leaves just as fast.

I feel strong and vulnerable at the same time. Capable and exhausted. Confident one moment and spiraling the next.

Pregnancy has a way of stripping away the illusion that you can prepare perfectly. You can plan, yes. You can organize and research and list-make. But emotionally, you just show up and hope you’re doing enough.

Letting Go of the Myth of “Equal”

One thing I’m learning as I head into this next season is that love doesn’t have to be equal to be fair.

I won’t love my kids the same way. I’ll love them uniquely. Their needs will look different. Their seasons will overlap but never mirror each other.

And that’s okay.

Oliver doesn’t need me to pretend nothing is changing. He needs me to show him that change doesn’t mean loss.

Stepping Into 2026 With Soft Intentions

If I have intentions for this year, they’re gentle ones.

To speak honestly about my worries instead of hiding them. To slow down when I can. To let Oliver take up space in this transition. To trust that love expands even when energy feels limited.

I don’t want to rush this season away. Even the uncomfortable parts deserve to be noticed.

If You’re Here Too

If you’re pregnant with an older child at home, especially one old enough to notice everything, I want you to know you’re not alone in these thoughts.

It’s okay to feel joy and worry at the same time.It’s okay to grieve the simplicity of what was while welcoming what’s coming.It’s okay to admit that inclusion takes effort and intention.

We’re not failing by thinking about these things. We’re parenting already.

As I step into the rest of this pregnancy and into 2026, I’m choosing presence over perfection. One conversation at a time. One small moment of reassurance. One day closer to meeting this baby while still holding tight to the child who made me a mom first.

And that feels like enough for now.