a birthday bump

Turning 30 last year was hard for me.

I felt isolated. I was disappointed that I hadn’t had children yet when friends were getting pregnant and having babies and that I didn’t seem to be on any career path. When I was younger, I had imagined that by 30, I’d be, well, a grown up.  A grown up with a job and a family.

Turning 31 this week was a completely different experience.

I felt so loved. On my birthday, I was 24 weeks, 3 days pregnant and 2 weeks, 2 days into a new full-time job. Thirty might have gotten off to a rocky start, but it ended up being a pretty important year for me (although I still don’t feel like a grown up).

What a difference a year makes.

{self-portrait taken at 24 weeks, 3 days on my birthday}