By Robyn Young

I’m fascinated by the process of bringing a dream to life. The more I reflect on it, the more I’m reminded of my pregnancies—there are so many parallels. It’s no coincidence that this is called the “law of gestation.”

In those early stages of pregnancy, I went through what most women do: morning sickness. YUCK. While I wasn’t completely nauseated all the time, there was a persistent discomfort that lasted for weeks as my body adjusted to this new state. Some days, it took real commitment to my unborn child to feel any gratitude—because honestly, I was in pain.

Eventually, though, the illness passed. It always faded before I could even feel the baby move. And once that constant physical reminder was gone, pregnancy didn’t dominate my mind the way it had early on. But that didn’t make me any less pregnant. The gestation didn’t stop—it just became less obvious. My body was getting used to the change. And then came the moment I finally felt that baby move. Suddenly, everything felt real. With every day that passed, I became more certain of the reality of what I couldn’t yet see.

When the day finally arrived to deliver my baby, I was all in—mentally, physically, emotionally. It was everything. Where I had once been a more passive participant (my baby’s limbs formed whether I was consciously thinking about it or not), labor demanded everything of me. There was no mistaking it.

Giving birth to a dream has followed a nearly identical process.

In the beginning, there was pain—the pain of change, of adjusting to a new identity as these dream-ideas took root in my subconscious. I assumed that once the ideas were planted, the physical work would begin right away. It didn’t. In fact, most of the work was in my head. I often felt passive, even helpless. I kept wondering if all this mental effort—thinking, visualizing, aligning with the laws—was actually doing anything. And when the physical side of things still didn’t show up, I started to doubt. Had I missed a nudge? Overlooked some inspired action?

Looking back now, I see how crucial that stage was. Some days I felt like I wasn’t making any progress because I wasn’t “doing” anything. But that’s as false as saying that because I wasn’t showing during pregnancy, I wasn’t expecting. That unseen time was essential for my baby’s development—and in this case, it’s been just as critical for preparing me to receive what’s coming.

Now I’ve reached the “work” stage. It’s like going into labor after months—almost nine, funnily enough—of invisible progress. After the initial discomfort faded, I had plenty of moments when I wondered if anything was really happening. Could repeating my goal over and over (and over!) really be the “work” that was required? Turns out, yes. And I wrestled with that! I kept thinking: there must be something more I should be physically doing to move this dream along. And the answer was: yes… but not yet.

When the time for action came, I knew. I had worried I wouldn’t recognize it, but when you’re waiting with that kind of anticipation for something you already love so much—you just know. And just like I didn’t deliver my babies alone, I haven’t been alone in delivering this dream. The help I’ve needed has shown up. And the closer I get to its full realization, the more support comes.

The gestation is nearly complete. I’m more certain now than ever before that this dream is real. And when it's finally born?

Sweet. Satisfaction.

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