In June, Lieke gave birth to her first child, a baby boy. But during her pregnancy, she couldn’t feel as happy and joyful as she had expected — overwhelming uncertainty and fear dominated her experience. Lieke felt lonely in her emotions during pregnancy. In this blog, she shares her story and hopes to break the feeling of loneliness for (expectant) mothers who experience the same.

Most stories about pregnancy focus on how special it is to feel life growing inside you, how you radiate with joy, and how you feel like you can conquer the world. My experience was the complete opposite. Normally, I’m a confident young woman, but the moment I became pregnant, I became incredibly insecure, scared, and lonely in those feelings. Enjoying pregnancy? That didn’t happen for me.

On the morning of October 1st, 2020, my partner and I stood in the bathroom together as I took a pregnancy test. The idea of having a baby had only come up a few months earlier, and the two previous attempts had been unsuccessful. We were both heavy smokers, so if the test was positive this time, it would be the perfect excuse to join "Stoptober" — the annual stop-smoking challenge — and use that as a cover for quitting.

After I took the test, we waited for the result. Huh? Two lines? That means pregnant, right? We couldn’t believe our eyes. Still in disbelief and dazed by the result, I crawled back into bed. This can’t be real, can it? We agreed to quit smoking immediately, just in case the test was correct. My partner left for work, and I got ready for my own workday. Sitting in the car, the reality slowly started to sink in. The test was positive, and that’s hard to fake, but I didn’t want to get too excited — because if it really was true, so much could still go wrong. Subconsciously, I decided to protect myself from disappointment.

The next day, I took another test because I still couldn’t believe I was actually pregnant. Again, it was positive. So, I called my doctor, assuming I’d need to bring in a urine sample so they could confirm the pregnancy themselves. But when I spoke to the assistant, she congratulated me immediately and advised me to register with a midwife practice, wishing me good luck with my pregnancy. Okay… time to adjust my expectations. Which practice should I call? After reading some reviews, I made my choice. The receptionist asked me some questions, estimated that I was four weeks pregnant, and scheduled the first ultrasound for when I would be eight weeks along. That meant four more weeks of waiting for someone to officially confirm I was really pregnant.

Those four weeks felt like an eternity. Every time I went to the bathroom, I checked for bleeding. I was so afraid of miscarriage. I googled statistics on how many women miscarry — and the number was higher than I expected. Not helpful for my anxiety. And when I started to feel cramps in my lower abdomen, the panic really kicked in. We called the midwife to explain my symptoms. She reassured me that I was likely feeling implantation cramps, which is normal, and suggested using a hot water bottle to ease the discomfort.

When the day of the ultrasound finally arrived, I was extremely nervous. I had secretly asked a few pregnant friends which midwife practice they used, and two of them went to the same one I had chosen. Naturally, I didn’t want to run into anyone I knew. Luckily, when we arrived, the waiting room was empty except for us — a relief. Soon, it was our turn, and I lay down for the scan. The midwife placed the device on my belly, and we could already see an oval shape. She immediately spotted a heartbeat. She also did an internal scan, where we could hear the heartbeat too. But I stayed guarded. I kept telling myself so much could still go wrong.

After the successful first scan, we scheduled the next one and went home with good news. You might think: how lucky to see and hear that little heartbeat! And yes, I was grateful — but I still couldn’t feel happy. Fear of failure and disappointment dominated everything. Allowing myself to feel joy, knowing things could still go wrong? I couldn’t do that to myself.

From that moment on, I lived from scan to scan. The next ultrasound was in three weeks, and if that one was good, we’d have the “green light” to share the big news with family and friends. Meanwhile, I kept checking for bleeding every time I used the bathroom. By the time of the second scan — the dating ultrasound — I was, once again, incredibly nervous. At the appointment, I lay down for the scan, and what a difference compared to the first one! Before, we saw a tiny oval blob; now it looked like a little human. BIZARRE! The midwife was cheerful and enthusiastic, as if she’d never seen something so beautiful. Everything looked perfect. We received our official due date and left with great news. They also asked if we wanted to do the NIPT test.

Choosing whether or not to do the NIPT test was incredibly difficult. Of course, I wanted a healthy baby, but I didn’t want to be faced with making a decision about terminating the pregnancy if abnormalities were detected. My fear of failure and disappointment with this pregnancy played a huge role in that decision. Ultimately, I chose not to do the NIPT test.

With the positive dating scan behind us, it was time to share the big news. The warm and happy reactions were overwhelming. Everyone said the same thing: ENJOY IT! Well… that’s exactly what I couldn’t do. I felt guilty that everything was going so well for us, yet I couldn’t feel happy. What did I have to complain about? I got pregnant quickly, no miscarriage, and everything looked fine. So why wasn’t I happy? A little voice in my head kept saying things could still go wrong — that my body wouldn’t be able to carry out this incredible task, that my body would fail me.

So I lived from scan to scan, and I especially looked forward to the gender reveal ultrasound. Boy or girl — I didn’t care. I just wanted to know and, most importantly, to see our little human again, to check if everything was still okay inside. But two days before our gender ultrasound, the whole country went into lockdown due to rising COVID-19 cases. Only medically necessary scans were allowed — gender scans were considered “fun” and therefore non-essential. I was devastated. Tears streamed down my face. I had looked forward to this moment so much, and now it was taken from me. I felt defeated and robbed.

My partner saw my emotions and wanted to do something for me. He searched for a practice still willing to perform the scan. After all, they were open — and who would check what kind of scan I was coming for? After some searching, he found a practice willing to make an exception. So we made the appointment. A bit later than planned, we were on our way to the scan. Naturally, I was nervous again. At the appointment, our little one wasn’t eager to reveal themselves, but after some effort, we finally saw it: a boy!

One more hurdle remained — the 20-week anatomy scan. This detailed medical check could reveal whether the baby had severe abnormalities or was not viable at birth. We were warned that it would be a nerve-racking scan, with the technician only telling us the results at the end. Luckily, we had an incredibly kind woman who explained each step and immediately told us what she saw and whether it looked good. Everything looked perfect — nothing to worry about.

After the positive 20-week scan, I finally started to relax. I could feel our baby moving more often, providing constant reassurance that everything was okay. Each movement filled me with warmth, and for the first time, I could actually enjoy something. Once I passed the 24-week mark — when a baby is considered viable in case of premature birth — I could breathe a sigh of relief, and time suddenly started to fly. I finally felt comfortable shopping for baby clothes, blankets, and other essentials. I had put it off, afraid that if something went wrong, I’d be left with painful reminders.

At 27 weeks, I scheduled a 3D ultrasound. It cost a small fortune, but it was absolutely worth it. This scan wasn’t about measurements or growth. It was simply to look at our little miracle, to see his face and what he was doing in there. For the first time, I could enjoy a scan and see what I had been longing to see.

I was determined to take maternity leave four weeks before my due date. I wanted as much time with my baby as possible. Now I understand why four weeks is the maximum — that last week was exhausting, and I work in an office job! Like most pregnant women, I was done by the final weeks. At 38 weeks, I could barely sleep. I was completely drained. There I was again, sitting at the midwife’s office with tears in my eyes — I had had enough. She understood but reminded me that it could still be another four weeks, so I had to hang in there. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. A few days later, the early contractions began, and at exactly 39 weeks, after a short and smooth delivery, our perfectly healthy son was born. What a hell of a ride this pregnancy was — but I did it!

I hope we can break the taboo together. Pregnancy and motherhood can be hard or challenging, and that’s completely okay! Usually, only the positive sides are shared, which made me feel like my emotions weren’t valid. That made me feel lonely, even though I know many (expectant) mothers experience these feelings. I’ve never hidden how I felt during pregnancy. I wanted to break the loneliness by talking about it. Some people listened; most didn’t react much. Let’s make space for emotions — the good and especially the difficult ones. Life isn’t always perfect, and that’s what makes us human — and mothers.