Dear Pre-Pregnant Me.

Hey girl.

Congratulations on being almost 6-months sober! No, you didn’t become an alcoholic. You’re having a baby!

I know, I know. Not the plan, right? But listen, just because you’re actively trying to not have a baby does not mean that you’re not supposed to have one. Hear me out.

Right now, you’re in the middle of a wild and free phase. You’re making travel plans, counting down the days until Chris is done with rotations so you guys can go adventure all over together. So when you wake up on a Wednesday and see a plus sign on a white stick, your first reaction will be one of being upset. You will spend months feeling guilty about that, but try to cut yourself a break. It’s okay, I promise.

When you tell Chris, it will be on a night where you had plans to attend a school function. When you tell him that you can still go because you know it’s important, he will grab you by the shoulders and say, “That doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters.”

He will be so, so right.

Some people will be happy for you and some won’t. Some people will say congratulations and some will say I’m sorry. It’s all very confusing, but none of it matters.

You don’t know anything about having a baby, but I’ll let you in on a secret I’ve recently been let in on: No one does. Even if they’ve been planning for years, no one really knows about having a baby until they actually have one.

All those wild and free dreams you have? They don’t go away. But one day, without even realizing it, they start to include a little boy. You start to dream of traveling with the love of your life and a wild-haired blonde boy. You start to dream of trips home to see your parents so he can play in the treehouse you know he will have in their backyard. You start to dream of making a new home somewhere, with you and Chris and this little guy and Gatsby. The more time that goes on, the more perfect these dreams become.

And it’s hard. It’s harder–physically and many other ways–than anyone could have prepared you for. But you’re also stronger than you would have ever thought. I haven’t even met him yet, but I can already tell you: It’s all worth it.

One day, on a Wednesday, you will wake up to an incredibly normal day, with no idea how much your life is about to change in a few short hours.

One day, on a Thursday, you will feel the distinct kick of a tiny little foot, and that will be the moment you fully realize that that you’re adding a real, live human to your family–a tiny little human with his own personality, who will be all yours.

One day, on a Friday, you will be spending your day off filling in blank spaces on the calendar–match day, graduation, interviews–and it will be like the final piece of a puzzle just clicks in for you. Of course you’re supposed to have a baby. Of course he’s supposed to be at match day and graduation with you. Of course there’s supposed to be another member of your family. Of course. 


So, you’re in for quite the ride. You will be upset, you will be frustrated, you will be sick, you will be fat, you will be terrified. But just hang in there. Because your moments of clarity are coming. The excitement is on the way. Just hang in there.

Oh, and one more thing. Do me a favor and go out tonight and get sushi. The good kind–the cold, fresh, raw kind. And get a beer with that. Trust me, you have no idea how much you really love beer until it’s the middle of the scorching hot summer and you can’t have one.

You’re about to grow up real fast. But you’re going to surprise yourself in the best of ways. And six months into the future, you won’t be able to imagine your life playing out in any other way. So just hold on. You’ve got a good thing coming.

What do you wish you could go back and tell yourself?