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Spring is a season of transfor- ma3on, bare branches burst into bloom, the earth awakens, and the air hums with possibility. For those expe- riencing pregnancy, this season of renewal mirrors the quiet miracle unfolding within . Just as flowers push through the soil, stretching toward the sun, so too does new life take shape, nurtured by warmth, love, and an3cipa3on. The lengthening days, the scent of fresh earth a#er rain, the golden light filtering through new leaves, each mo- ment carries a whisper of promise. Life's most beau3ful beginnings o#en emerge from the unseen energy of love. f r t A I remember spending a spring pregnant. It had been a long winter, both outside my window and within me. The first trimester was a blur of exhaus3on, nausea, and quiet uncer- tainty, a season of pause. But as the frost melted and the world so#ened, so did I. With each sunrise, I felt my connec3on to the 3ny life inside me deepen. I would sit in the garden, pressing my hands to my belly, feeling the sun on my skin, imagining my baby soaking in the same warmth from within. With every bud that unfurled and every bird that returned from winter's exile, I felt a growing sense of readiness, as if nature itself was whispering: You are growing, too. You are preparing. You are enough. Pregnancy in spring carries a rhythm of its own, a gentle un- folding that mirrors the changes happening within. The first kicks, flu4ering like petals in the wind. The scent of blooming lilacs, sweet and full of promise. The hum of bees weaving be- tween flowers, a quiet reminder of life's 3reless con3nua3on. The world outside becomes a reflec3on of the transforma3on beneath my skin, delicate yet powerful, slow yet inevitable. And just as trees bloom without ques3oning whether their blossoms will be perfect, I remind myself to trust in my body's wisdom, to surrender to the growth that happens beyond my control. One a#ernoon, when the weight of the unknown pressed heavy on me, I sat on the porch, watching the wind carry 3ny red buds from the maple tree in our yard. I felt untethered, unsure if I was ready for the changes ahead. And then, a so# flu4er, like a A Season Of Growth & Love Text by Dana Daly Photography by Tom Daly P arenting HOOK 47