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I am not a slave to fashion, but instead a missionary to developing my own personal style. I love falling into the latest issues of Vogue, Marie Claire, and InStyle. (I recently interviewed an employee of the latter.) I love September and being inundated with thousands of colorful, glossy pages of the latest in fashion—and also some great journalism—found inside the pages of the most pivotal issue of the year. I read these issues cover to cover, not skipping over so much as an ad.

One of those journalistic gems got under my skin in the same way the needle for a shot of Benedryl after a nasty allergic reaction would.

Marie Claire, September 2010

Marie Claire, September 2010

I was hesitant to read “Childless By Choice—And Happy” (in the September 2010 issue of Marie Claire) in the first place—apprehensive that the topic at hand would make me feel bitter. You see, writer Polly Vernon took two of those beautiful, glossy, perfume-laced pages to explain why she never, ever wants a baby.

Fair enough, I thought. I used to be her. I was never really sure the whole baby scene was for me. I got nervous around children. They were odd to me, and I never felt comfortable in their presence. They were sticky and I was not charmed by the constant flow of boogers and snot flowing from their noses.

And now, as I sit here writing this, I am ten days away from my due date, alternating between the pages of Vogue and the new Babies R Us catalogue. But it wasn’t an instantaneous shift. Like Vernon, I thought heavily about how having a baby would affect my career, finances, social life, and body. It has already had an effect on all of those things (and more) and she is not even here yet.

But along the way, something happened. My attitude has been altered, and to all of these changes? I say bring it on. Will it be a challenge? Most certainly. But I’ve always done well under pressure.

I am not faulting Vernon for her feelings. Obviously since I once felt the same, I can relate. However, one paragraph left behind the taste of sour breast milk upon my taste buds:

And regular women have taken up the trend. Ubiquitous mommy blogs host heated debates on the relative merits of organic baby food, four-figure strollers, and the latest inventions of “momtrepreneurs.” Meanwhile, those trying, and failing, to have babies launch themselves into expensive rounds of fertility treatments, railing against being denied what they consider their absolute right, the one thing that the movies and TV shows and pop songs and celebrities are telling them is their defining opportunity for happiness.

She goes on to say that this is “complete madness” and, also, “it’s kind of boring.”

Excuse me? I respect her opinion, but why fault others for their views and lifestyle choices? Why lash out at women who have empowered themselves to be all and have all? She complains of others questioning her decision to remain childless, yet is doing the same to women who choose the opposite.

Can’t we all just get along?

Questions:

  • Have you gotten grief from other women because of your choice to have children (or perhaps not have children)?
  • Do you ever regret the decision to start a family?
  • How have other parts of your life–career, finances, social life, body–suffered because of it, if at all?

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Me at 35 weeks.

As I near the end of this road called pregnancy, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting. I am not the same person I was before my accidental BFP. Physically, pregnancy was a freshly-paved freeway with only a few pit stops along the way. But emotionally? It was more like an old dirt path, barely the width of a Ford Pinto.

The ride these past nine months has been a blend of a leisurely Sunday stroll and a high-speed chase fit for Paul Walker’s next movie.

I can’t help but think that because I am relatively young and that because this pregnancy was unplanned, I am going to be missing out on something—on life. Although I could fill novels with stories—both good and bad—this thought crosses my mind: I haven’t really lived. But the deeper my mind tries to dissect that thought, the more I realize that my life will only have just begun with the birth of my child.

That’s a beautiful thing.

Other times, my thoughts are consumed with what That Moment will be like for me and my girl. That Moment she is placed upon my chest. That Moment we look into one another’s eyes for the first time. That Moment, when she is still sticky with goo yet is the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes upon.

That Moment. (This is not me, but this image did kind of bring tears to my eyes.)

All of these thoughts? They are bittersweet. I am nearing the end of one voyage—pregnancy—and heading toward the unknown—being a mother. But really? The journey of pregnancy is not the journey at all. This little girl’s life is.

Questions:

  • How would you describe the journey of your pregnancy?
  • Did your life begin and start anew with the birth of your child?
  • What was That Moment like for you? (Extra points if you share a photo!)

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Baby girl is normally very active, yet very shy once the camera starts rolling. While this gives me great hope that a sex tape scandal or a porn career won’t be in her future, it’s annoying that I can’t get her fetus dance moves on film and forever incarnated.

Here, I was finally able to get at least a few of her cool moves on video.

Questions:

  • Did your child’s activity level and/or personality as a fetus continue once he or she was born?
  • Do you ever miss feeling him or her squirm inside of your belly?
  • Was your child born with 20 limbs? Because it sure feels like my fetus has just about that many.

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