The hormonal shift is beginning, and you can feel it in the way you show up each day. There’s a shift in your energy, your mindset, your very essence. The draw to go deeper inward is a pull without reckoning—an undeniable force urging you to retreat, to nest, to prepare, both physically and spiritually.  

Your emotions are a rollercoaster, ebbing and flowing like waves in the ocean. Some moments you feel pure bliss, overflowing with gratitude for the life growing within you. You find yourself lost in daydreams, hand resting on your belly, a soft smile forming as tiny kicks respond to your touch. In other moments, the weight of it all crashes over you. The exhaustion, the discomfort, the uncertainty. You feel unstable, ungrounded, on the verge of tears with no clear reason why. It is all part of the process—this deep, primal preparation for birth.  

You crave the quiet. The serene. The calm. The peace. You crave the solitude. Noise feels overwhelming. The outside world starts to fade, and you feel the call to turn inward. You long to cocoon yourself in a space of stillness, where you can be fully present with the life inside you. The ticking clock of late pregnancy hums in the background, reminding you that this sacred season will soon come to an end.  

It’s just you and this new life within you. Your mind cannot seem to focus on anything else. The to-do list looms—projects, both big and small, that you want completed before the sacred fourth trimester begins. You organize tiny clothes, prepare nourishing meals, ensure your birth space is ready. Each task feels like an offering, a preparation for the transition that lies ahead.  

Then there are the kicks and the squirms. The rolls and the punches. Some are soft and fluttery, others take your breath away. These movements are your constant companions, your reminders that you are never alone in this waiting. You soak them up, knowing these are the final weeks. This closeness, this deep physical connection, will soon shift. The feeling of life moving within will soon become a memory. And so, you savor every stretch, every hiccup, every tiny foot pressing against your ribs.  

You daydream endlessly about this new little soul. What will they look like, smell like, sound like? How will it feel to hold them skin to skin, their warmth against your chest? You imagine the moment your eyes meet for the first time, the moment their first breath fills the air. Each passing day brings you one step closer to that divine encounter, but the waiting feels both gentle and agonizing.  

This is the in-between. The both-and. The space where the veil is thin and you walk the line between waiting and welcoming. You are neither here nor there, still pregnant yet on the cusp of birth. The waiting is a paradox—both exhilarating and exhausting, filled with joyful anticipation yet stretched with the ache of longing.  

For some, this waiting season brings the desire to be surrounded by others. The company of close friends, the laughter of family, the grounding presence of community. The need for connection grows, and social gatherings become a source of energy and comfort.  

For others, the craving is to retreat. To shut out the noise, to linger in the quiet rhythms of home, to soak in the sacred dynamics of family before everything shifts. You savor the last moments with your older children before they step into their new roles as siblings. You cherish the presence of your partner, recognizing that soon, your arms will be full of new life.  

However you find yourself in this waiting—whether drawn to togetherness or solitude, to preparing or resting—know that this season is holy. It is a pause between what was and what will be. A threshold. A sacred transition.  

Lean into it. Let it unfold. Trust that your body, your baby, and the divine timing of birth will guide you exactly where you need to be.  

And soon—so very soon—you will step beyond this in-between, into the embrace of a new beginning.

The Sacred Pause

The veil is thin, the air is still,
A hush before the coming thrill.
Time suspends in golden light,
A breath held soft, a heart stretched tight.

The world outside begins to fade,
As instinct calls, as rhythms braid.
Each kick, each roll, a whispered tune,
A final dance beneath the moon.

The weight of waiting, light yet deep,
A waking dream, a pull to weep.
For soon the tide will shift and swell,
A story told, a birth to tell.

Yet here you rest, not then, not now,
A sacred space, a furrowed brow.
Wrapped in stillness, wrapped in grace,
The final hush before embrace.

So linger here, breathe in, be free,
Let time dissolve in mystery.
For in this pause, so vast, so true,
A life awaits—a love made new.

Stay Wild & Free,
-Brandy

Join me over in Fearless Birth Sanctuary!

>>CLICK HERE<<

Rooted in Christ, Fearless Birth Sanctuary embodies a holistic approach that champions autonomous, physiological birth, creating a secure and sacred space for you to flourish with confidence and joy. This sanctuary invites you to embark on a journey where you can learn, prepare, and fully embrace the profound depths of your own strength and resilience. Here, you are empowered to experience birth as a divine design, rooted in joy, autonomy, and the unwavering support of your faith.