The Biggest "Ego Death" of My Life

Over the past four months I have experienced the biggest ego death of my life so far. Pregnancy. I say, "so far," but I actually kind of believe this might be the biggest one ever. And I've still got five months to go.

An "ego death" is defined as "a complete loss of subjective self-identity," or a "massive phase of transition and self-surrender." Any women who has ever been pregnant would likely agree that this time feels exactly like that. It is the transition phase from ~maiden~ to ~mother~ and not at all unique to me. But just because it's something many, many people have experienced, and will continue to experience, doesn't make it any less transformative, and dare I say: lonely. An ego death will always be lonely because it is exactly that. The loss of YOUR identity; something no one else on the entire planet has ever shared with you. It is your internal, personal, belief and feeling of who you are as a person, being changed daily as you mentally, physically and emotionally transform into someone else. In this case, a mother.

I am excited to become a mother, let me start by saying that. But the loss of my previous self has already been weighing heavy on me, and this transition has been hard. (I'm sure I'll laugh at how naive that sounds once he's here and I haven't slept in weeks and have no non-milk-stained shirts, like 'oh pregnancy was hard?') lol. I've spent this time bouncing back and forth between genuine smiles and excitement when people want to talk about the baby and the pregnancy, and annoyance and anger that it seems to be all anyone wants to talk about. I have thought, and said aloud, many times already, "There's still other shit going on," and, "I'm more than just his soon to be mother." That sounds kind of horrible, I know, but I don't think we should sugarcoat or cover up how it can sometimes feel like we are nothing more than vessel for the incoming life. My partner has listened to me sob on more than one occasion about how "my life doesn't feel like my own anymore," and thankfully he's supportive and sympathetic - however it isn't lost on either of us that he cannot and will not ever fully understand what I mean. Both of our lives are changing drastically with the preparation of our baby boy, but only my body is changing. Only my brain chemistry is literally changing. It feels selfish to be upset about that at times, but it's the truth, and one that I think many women probably feel but don't say.

Let's reiterate: I am happy to be his vessel. I've cried plenty of happy tears in addition to hormonal, confused, and angry ones. There have been many magical moments. The sonograms, the holding of my growing belly, the weird confliction of being a little happy that my boobs hurt and I'm nauseous because it means he's in there and doing well. I've giggled through tears during moments of meditation at the disbelief that this soul chose us to be his parents. I honestly can't wait to meet him. But emotions are allowed to conflict. We are complex enough to feel multiple things as once, and I feel like I haven't read or heard enough of this type of honesty from pregnant women. Every blog, reddit thread, instagram reel, and Facebook post talks about how special it is. How "nothing else matters" once you become a mom. I imagine I'll feel that too, but during this phase I do feel myself somewhat grappling over the loss of who I was without him: someone I will never be again. There is plenty of content out there that speaks about the physical symptoms of pregnancy, but very little about the emotional, mental, and spiritual change of the self. It is the death of the single, allowed-to-be-selfish-at-times, free, individual - which is also the birth of the nurturing, responsible-for-another-human-life, milk-machine, mother.

I'm so grateful that this period is nine months long because it's a process to feel all of that. In many ways it's as much of a grieving process as it is a growing process. I've spent years now talking about death and rebirth in a spiritual context, but this journey brings it all to a whole new level. As I write this, I do feel more excitement than anything else. As we clean, and paint, and decorate his room, I feel nothing but joy that his little cries will fill those walls before we know it. As my belly grows, and itches, I feel ecstatic that I will soon feel him moving around in there (perhaps as soon as this week!!).

An ego-death is seen as a "good" thing in most cultures and ideologies. It is growth. Transformation. Letting go in order to receive. It is the second phase of "the hero's journey" and an inspirational rite of passage. And it is also still, a death. Which will always come with those pesky five stages of grieving. My "work" and healing up until this point have brought me to a stage of confidence for this experience. I know I am beyond blessed. Like I said before, I believe we are chosen by the incoming soul for these titles: mother and father; and I'm honored to be chosen. I will keep doing whatever it takes to be the best, and most evolved version of myself. For myself, but also now, for him too.