My Baby Shower Gift to You

{we did it!}

Either something's in the water or it's just the stage of life that we're in, but I know so many pregnant ladies right now. 
This letter is for them. 
{and the future moms-to-be as well, cause you're time will come...amanda. and amy. hehe}




Dear {insert name},

Yes. I'm talking to you.

You beautifully glowing mama in the making, you.

Look at that, growing a human being and all.

Girl. That's pretty amazing. pretttttty darn amazing.

I'm betting nine months seems like an eternity chock full of pretty darn amazing and potentially less than amazing moments now, doesn't it?

Sure, it's all rainbows and glitter and gender revealing cupcake parties,

until you're reminded {approx. 793 times. 812 if you include complete strangers at the grocery store} of the whole "THAT has to squeeze out of THAT!?"

Plus the heartburn, and the sleepless nights, and the awkward summer months squeezed into a bikini while the bump hasn't completely -umped yet, more like, {too many} -cheeseburgered.  

No wonder some women drink red wine during their pregnancy. 

I almost poured myself a glass as well. 

Especially after several particularly uncomfortable TUMS induced constipation labors, that sent my hypnobirthing confident-self into a downward spiral. 

Cause if I can't even do THAT, how am I gonna do THAT!? 

{I'm assuming by now, you know what the "that's" are referring to}

And so began many a tossed and turned night, praying for a miraculous cure to any and all birthing discomfort. This is 2012 people! We have Siri and Tupac holograms for goodness sake.

But like most of life does, nine months goes by fast.

One minute you're trying to solve the 1+1 pink line mystery equation while your husband's gone camping for the weekend,

and the next you're huffing and puffing your way through the hospital entrance at 11 PM, {hopefully not while your husband's gone camping for the weekend}

Thankfully,

us girls are pretty strong. prettttttty darn strong.

Like, I am woman hear me roar strong.

Which you might do. 

You might roar during labor. 
Who cares though.


"We've heard and seen it all," said my nurse friend who had a lady accidentally poop on her shoe during labor. 
Which, somehow made me feel better, because, really, what are the odds that'll happen to you too?


I did a lot of moaning and combing my fingers through my hair. 

Plus, a lot of slurping down those cranberry-sprite spritzer mocktails my bartender moonlighting as a nurse kept making me. 

In the end, all that matters is your baby. 

and hospital ice. 

Both are quite fabulous.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}