On a Babymoon in Mexico, Embracing an Identity Shift

26.04.2024 - 22:25 / cntraveler.com

Floating in a warm ocean, sun on my belly—this is what I’ve dreamed of my entire pregnancy. After spending the majority of it in New York, I was caught off guard by the sudden ease I felt in my body and brain as I waded into the ocean and the weight I’d been carrying lifted off of me for the first time in months. 

I’ve always found the term “babymoon” a bit off-putting, overly indulgent even. It's not as widely accepted into the vacation lexicon as a honeymoon, bachelorette, or 50th birthday. In fact, the term was first coined in the early ’90s and referred to a period of time for parents to spend alone with their new child soon after their birth.

But I desperately wanted time away together, just my partner and I, to feel my pregnant body where I am happiest: immersed in a body of water, drenched in sunshine. I was about seven months pregnant when my husband and I traveled to Mexico's Riviera Maya for a long weekend at Etéreo, Auberge Resorts Collection for the purpose of experiencing their new babymoon package. The quick flight time (just five hours from New York) makes the region ideal for a pregnancy trip, if tropical is your thing—and Etéreo’s tailored “Babymoon in Paradise'' itinerary promised to make our weekend even more special.

The property sits above acres of lush green mangroves

Highlighting my pregnancy bump after spending months layered up

We chose to spend the first day of our long weekend free of activities, and after check-in and an initial tour around the property—an intimate paradise that floats peacefully above acres of lush green mangroves—we went straight for beachside shrimp tacos, an ice cold chela for Alex, and a refreshing mocktail for me. We took the afternoon to lounge by the adults-only pool, let our brains disconnect from work, and slow down to match the soothing pace of the resort. 

The next day at the spa, SANA, I was instructed to cover myself in a natural clay, then guided through a pregnancy-safe version of the spa's pre-cleanse ritual, rinsing the clay off in a sensory shower, and then left to float in a womb-like cenote-inspired pool, before being ushered into a serene courtyard with a cup of hibiscus tea to await my prenatal massage. As I swished my feet around in the hot tub, I marveled at the growth of my stomach on full display, the kicking feet within.

The majority of my pregnancy has taken place during New York’s colder half of the year. I’ve spent months layered up, strategically minimizing my bump, determined, for some reason, for my pregnancy to not be the first thing people notice when they see me. Throughout me and my husband’s decision-making process, I had been so focused on what was on the other side of pregnancy—overwhelmingly excited to witness my