Iceland, Before Everything Changed
Six months pregnant. One quiet trip. The last time it was just us.
We didn’t go to Iceland to escape our life.
We went to sit inside it.
In late 2021, I was six months pregnant with our first child together. Trey was approaching one year sober. We had just celebrated our second anniversary. Life felt full, fragile, hopeful—and loud in ways we didn’t yet have language for. What we didn’t know then was that this trip would quietly become a bookmark in our story: the last time it was just us.
No kids. No schedules. No bottles or breast pumps. Just space.
Trip Snapshot
Destination
Iceland
Dates
September 29 – October 6, 2021
Flights
Delta / Virgin Atlantic (Atlanta → JFK → KEF)
Where we went
- Reykjavík
Þingvellir
Seljalandsfoss
Vík
Selfoss
Kerið Crater
Blue Lagoon
Sky Lagoon
Transportation
Rental car + whale-watching boat tour
Where we stayed
Reykjavik Marina Hotel (formerly Icelandair), plus a lighthouse Airbnb chasing northern lights
Why This Trip Mattered Then
We needed togetherness.
This was our first child together, and we were both anxious in different ways. Trey was navigating sobriety with intention and strength. I was navigating pregnancy with excitement and fear. Iceland gave us room to breathe without talking everything to death.
There was no pressure to perform happiness.
Just the ability to exist.
At the time, we thought this would be one of many annual couple trips. Life, of course, had other plans. Babies came. Then another. Breastfeeding seasons blurred into pregnancy again. Trey would later travel solo, but every trip I took after this one involved either a baby or a growing belly.
Looking back now, there’s a quiet sadness in realizing you don’t always get to return to certain versions of yourself. But there’s also gratitude—for having known them at all.
The Road Between Volcanoes (Our Defining Moment)
One night, we were driving back from a long day trip. It was dark—Iceland dark. We were somewhere between volcanoes, the road stretching endlessly ahead of us.
We talked.
We laughed.
We listened to a murder podcast like the millennials we are.
I remember looking out at the vastness and thinking:
It’s so beautiful out here. Nothing else matters.
No distractions. No audience. Just us—talking about everything and nothing at all. That moment still matters because it reminds me why we started. Why we chose each other. Why stillness can be sacred.
Where We Stayed & How We Moved
We split our time intentionally.
In Reykjavík, we stayed near the marina—walkable, central, and close to restaurants and the harbor. We only needed the car for longer drives, which made city days feel relaxed and unhurried. The hotel was small (very small), and English TV options were limited, but that forced us to unplug in a way we didn’t expect.
Later, we stayed in a lighthouse Airbnb, hoping to catch the northern lights. That contrast—city energy to quiet isolation—mirrored exactly what we needed.
Without Rushing
What We Did
We didn’t chase a perfect itinerary. We followed our energy.
Walked behind waterfalls
Soaked in geothermal lagoons
Stood quietly on the black sand beach in Vík
Wandered colorful streets and the rainbow road
Visited old churches
Ate meals that felt experimental and comforting at the same time
Rested – intentionally, unapologetically
There was freedom in not trying to do it all.
Looking Back Now
It’s funny how you look back on a moment and realize you were standing at the edge of something- without knowing it.
I thought life would unfold one way.
It didn’t.
But I’m still grateful for that version of us. The quiet. The anticipation. The stillness before everything changed.
That trip taught me I deserve to see the world – the whole world.
Life is too short to stay home. Or stay still.
If you’ve ever taken a trip that now feels like a “before,” I’d love to hear about it.
What place holds that meaning for you?
This was Iceland.
Before everything changed.
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