Second trimester reflections

“It felt like jumping over a massive hurdle I had been staring at for months.”

Apr 22, 2026

In her column, Baby Steps, Alexis Benveniste shares joyful—and honest!—reflections on each trimester.

*My last big vacation before I become a mom*

I could finally take a breath when the second trimester arrived.

It felt like jumping over a massive hurdle I’d been staring at for months. Whether or not I was willing to admit it at the time, I realized that the first trimester was all about survival: making sure the baby was healthy, making sure I was healthy. Crossing my fingers. Hoping for the best. Feeling cautiously optimistic, but admittedly more cautious than optimistic. After 14 weeks of nausea and anxiety, pregnancy finally went from feeling like a concept to a reality, especially when I had my anatomy scan around the 20-week mark. (Not to say that the nausea and anxiety totally faded. They didn’t.)

Seeing her hands, her feet, her brain, and her body made it real. While I immediately wanted to go into planning mode, I had to remind myself that I still had time, and it was important to really soak everything in. The scan was a nerve-wracking hour-and-a-half-long process because my girl was super cozy and didn’t want to move much! I ended up doing jumping jacks, yoga, dancing, drinking ice-cold water, and eating a little snack. I couldn’t help but laugh as the ultrasound tech said, “She’s super comfortable.” (The baby, that is. Not me.)

Case in point: Every food was absolutely disgusting to me, and when people asked me about my cravings or “safe foods,” I’d quietly laugh to myself. Sometimes, pre-pregnancy, it felt like my world centered around food, and a part of me misses that. Now, I have to force myself to eat toast. I thought that feeling would go away by the end of the first trimester, but it didn’t. Although there have been a few days where I just primally needed a chocolate croissant from a local bakery (and I made that happen).

*Nothing hits quite like a chocolate croissant when you’re pregnant*

My brain also started to feel different in the second trimester, which I’d been told about but couldn’t fully grasp the concept of until I experienced it for myself. Suddenly, stringing together a coherent sentence—written or spoken—began to feel more complicated, and I found myself saying things that someone would say if they were running on three hours of sleep and no caffeine.

I still managed to squeeze in my last big trip in the second trimester: a family getaway with my in-laws for my mother-in-law’s birthday. It was relaxing, beautiful, and everything I needed. (My days consisted of lots of celebration, virgin piña coladas, and naps!) By the end of it, I looked in the mirror, and for the first time, recognized something essential. “Wow,” I said to myself, “I really do look pregnant.” On the flight home, someone on the airplane let me use the restroom before them, which was another huge moment: I realized that strangers were recognizing I was pregnant. That was surreal, but so exciting.

While some people choose to travel up to 30ish weeks, I knew halfway through the second trimester that wouldn’t be the case for me—not because I wasn’t capable of doing it, but because I wanted to prioritize feeling settled and comfortable in Brooklyn. I started thinking about how different my life was already looking and how different it will look when baby girl arrives, but instead of feeling sadness for it, I felt a deep sense of gratitude.

There’s nothing wrong with grieving the life you lived pre-pregnancy. In fact, I know that’s incredibly normal, and I’m certain some of those feelings will bubble up for me as the third trimester progresses. But in the second trimester, I really spent every moment trying to remind myself how badly I wanted to be a mom and how lucky I was to make it as far as I did. I know that sounds grim, but perspective is important. I really believe that.

“I could finally take a breath when the second trimester arrived. It felt like jumping over a massive hurdle I had been staring at for months.”

Another memorable moment during this trimester involved spending an afternoon at the New York Stock Exchange for International Women’s Day, where Gloria Steinem and Paris Hilton rang the closing bell. It was just as wild as it sounds, and it was on this day that I realized my energy was dwindling. After being on my feet for a couple of hours, I felt like I’d run a marathon. It made me realize I need to start saying no to more things—but there wasn’t even an ounce of me that regretted saying yes to that special occasion. I could just feel things shifting for me both mentally and physically.

After the closing bell, people headed to a ballroom to network and socialize. I quickly found myself grabbing water, frantically searching for snacks, and sitting at a table solo. I felt no shame—taking care of myself made me feel proud, even if that meant sitting in silence and scarfing down fried chicken sliders. A year ago, I would have been up and on my feet, chatting with people and starting conversations. Yet there’s beauty in recognizing that life is changing and that we’re adaptable. New chapters come with moments of realization, but they also open up room for a lot of growth. I’m ready for it all.

And above all, I’m still doing everything I can to be patient with myself and the process. It gets harder as your body starts to feel different and your milestones look different from the pregnant people around you.

One of my biggest—if not the biggest—source of stress and anxiety during this pregnancy has been the baby’s lack of movement in the womb. While pregnant friends have told me about their babies kicking their ribs and dancing all night, I’ve been gently tapping my stomach, lying down on my left side, and drinking cold water in hopes that she will kick me. Over time, I’ve recognized she’s more of a roller and squiggler than a kicker, and I have a lot to learn from her. “Chill out, mom,” she’s telling me. “It’s going to be okay. Take a deep breath, and relax a little. I’m good in here.”

Still, during those occasional moments where she does move a lot (and I can see her movement from the outside of my belly), it’s blissful. There’s no better feeling in the world. I’m sure of it.