Pregnancy mode, in depth.
Most of Preg lives here. Forty weeks is a long time to keep showing up. Pregnancy mode is the part that does the showing-up work for us — it remembers, it notices, it surfaces the thing that's worth knowing right now and lets the rest of it sit quietly until we want it.
The home dashboard
Date at the top. Day of the week below it. A pregnancy progress bar that fills slowly across forty weeks. The current week and trimester. Weeks remaining. Due date. Today's mood prompt. The kick counter. The medication checklist. The day's insight card if there's one to show.
This is the screen Megan opens fifteen times a day. It is meant to feel like the same wooden table you keep your keys on. Not exciting. Reliable.
Daily journal & check-in
A prompt that rotates. A five-emoji mood scale. A row of symptom chips that Megan can tap if any of them fit. An optional photo. A free-write box at the bottom for when she has more to say.
The prompts were the hardest part to write. They had to feel like a thoughtful friend and not like an HR survey. Half of them are mine and half of them are Megan's. The good ones, she wrote.
Mood & symptom history
The chronological view of every check-in Megan has ever done. Mood as a line. Symptoms as small chips below each entry. A search field at the top if she's looking for a specific day.
And underneath the chronology, a small patterns section that does the noticing for her — if a symptom keeps repeating, if a mood keeps following a certain context, it'll surface in plain language.
Medication tracker
A daily list of what Megan is supposed to take. Prenatal, anything occasional, anything new the OB has added. Tap to mark taken. The history view is the part that matters — she can hand her phone to a provider and they can see the last month at a glance.
Appointments, shared
Every appointment Megan has gets three sections — what we wanted to ask, what was said, and what we're doing about it. Both of us can edit. Attachments — ultrasound prints, lab slips, after-visit summaries — go in too.
The same Firestore document is on both of our phones. If she adds a question in the car on the way to the clinic, I see it before she's parked.
This Week
Forty entries, one for each week. Each one has a tagline, a baby size note (no, we didn't compare it to a vegetable — Megan vetoed that on day one), a short list of key developments, and a deeper-read page if she wants it.
Sunday morning is when Megan reads it. The week is starting. The new entry is waiting.
Likely Next
Four small cards: a symptom that's commonly around the corner, a milestone we're approaching, an emotional shift that's typical for this week, a practical thing it's a good time to start on. Predictive without being scary. Forward-looking without being pushy.
It is the screen I wish someone had handed me as a nurse, fifteen years ago, walking out of an appointment with a patient who looked overwhelmed.
Symptom pattern intelligence
A quiet system. It watches the journal entries. It looks for repetition. When it sees something — three headaches in a row, mood low the day before every appointment, a symptom that always shows up after a poor night's sleep — it puts a small card on the home screen with a single sentence about what it noticed.
Kick counter
A big circular tap target. Count up. Undo if she tapped by accident. Session timer at the top. Sessions saved to history. Trends dashboard charts kicks per session over time.
We will use this most in the third trimester. We will use it more on the days something felt off. It exists so that I think a lot? stops being the answer.
Movement & Wellness
A small guide to running, cycling, yoga, weight training, and hiking — each one broken down by trimester, each one with a safety badge (green, yellow, red) for where Megan is right now. Underneath the badge is a short stop if list — the specific warning signs that mean stop and call.
The copy was written conservatively, because I work with patients and I would not want my own family doing more than that. The screen also adjusts based on who is reading — partner sees suggestions for how to support, pregnant person sees suggestions for how to listen to her body.
Workout log
Logs the activity, the duration, and how it felt on a small scale. Notes if she has them. The trends view does the rest — and almost always reveals that Megan feels better on days she moved than days she didn't, which she already knew but is willing to be reminded of.
Cravings & aversions map
A grid of small entries, week by week. What she wanted. What she could not stand the smell of. The most-screenshotted screen in the app. We will read it back together one day and laugh.
Name Board
Shared. Both of us add. Both of us can star or strike through. The list is long. The list keeps changing. We are still pretty far from a name.
Partner Inner Life
A private space for the supporting partner. Rotating reflective prompts and a free-write box. None of what's written here is visible to anyone else. It exists because I needed it to exist for myself, and I think the next partner who downloads this app might too.
Trends Dashboard
Nine sections: mood over time, symptom counts, workouts, kicks, a calendar heatmap of activity, trimester breakdown, appointment history, and two summary cards. A separate page on this site walks through every one: Trends & Data.
Daily Brief
Every morning, a short paragraph the AI writes after reading the last day or two of Megan's entries. It mentions me — by name — and it mentions her current week. It does not pretend to be a friend. It pretends to be a good note left on the counter.
Stored in Firestore. Scrollable. The early ones already feel like a journal we didn't know we were keeping.
Reference library
Plain-English entries on medications, lab tests, procedures, and terms. Curated, edited with provider input. The whole library exists for one purpose: to make a real two-minute conversation with a provider go a little better.
Examples of entries: glucose tolerance test, NIPT, group B strep swab, magnesium for preeclampsia, dosing notes on common prenatal vitamins, what an ACOG recommendation actually says in non-clinical language.
Bookshelf — EPUB & PDF reader
A small reader for the actual books in Megan's pregnancy reading list. Cover and metadata extraction. Table of contents. Adjustable font size. Light and sepia themes. Position-restore on reopen. Notes are saved per book.
Prepare
Six checklists (hospital bag, registry, before-leave, postpartum supplies, baby's first-week list, the visitors plan) and eight smart question lists for the appointments and tests Megan will run into across the forty weeks. She can star the questions she cares about and add her own. They flow into the prep section of the next relevant appointment.
Contacts Hub
Shared, real-time. The people in the picture — providers, doula, family, close friends. One-tap call, one-tap text. The quick contacts are injected into Labor mode so we don't have to scroll a contacts list at three in the morning.
Timeline
A shared, week-grouped, real-time photo and milestone reel — bump photos, ultrasounds, small moments, milestones. Both of us add to it. Both of us see updates instantly. It's where the photos for us live, separate from the bulletin board where the photos for everyone else live.
In-app chat
Just the two of us. Text, photos, GIFs, emoji reactions, reply-to, typing indicators, read receipts. Small milestone celebration cards that we can drop into the thread when something good happens.
We have a regular text thread too. We use this one for everything that's about the baby. It's nice to have one place where the kick-counter screenshot doesn't get lost between grocery lists.