Big News...

"Adrienne.  You may want to sit down for this."


These are the first few sentences out of my best girlfriends mouth relayed to be over the phone this afternoon as I reach my New York city apartment in, literally, 105 heat.


I wipe off the sweat from my upper lip and fumble oddly nervously for my keys, already predicting what words are going to come out of her mouth.  I reach the top of my stairs, jolt into my room to do exactly what my old college roommate told me to do--sit down.


Sit down as she tells me what I already knew she was going to tell me.


"I'm pregnant."


Wow.  My best girlfriend is pregnant.  How wonderfully unexpected.  Exciting.  Amazing.  Every adjective that goes with those words and more.


I couldn't be more ecstatic for her and her husband and the crazy awesome journey they will now take, not only as newly weds, but new parents.  


Wow.


And as we chatted in our usual manner, I joke about becoming "Aunt Adrienne" next March and teaching the child to dance as soon as humanly possible. 


Annnndddd...then it really hits.  She is not only 25, like me, but has a husband, a stable job, and set life.  


And now, she will now have a child.


She is going to have a person come out of her and as scared as I know she must be, she is going to be the best mother.  She is going to love this child with her whole heart, as will her husband, and I know that she has the means mentally and emotionally to do so.  I know she does and for that, I am forever impressed and jealous of her courageousness and WANT to have biological children.  


Hit number two.  


Holy crap.  What the hell am I even doing?


Could I be any more less responsible?  Or crazy?  Or...whatever?  Or have any more of a heart attack thinking about financially (much less emotionally) caring for another individual?  Dear Lord, I could barely pay for a meal at the local diner the other night when I decided to spot the bill for me and my boyfriend.  To think about having a child?  


Not only that, but as I get older, I know that only more and more of my friends will become pregnant.  Am I missing something?  I have no want for a person to come out of me and I feel bad about that because...well, everyone else is doing it.  Why shouldn't I?  Or why shouldn't I at least want to do it? 


Now, don't get me wrong.  Perhaps one day, I will adopt and I will be financially set enough to do so.  But it is a terrible feeling of wanting to want something even though you have no good reason to feel like you have to want it...


And yet, I'm 25.  I am young and happy.  I'm active and in shape.  I have a roof over my head and I have all ten toes and all ten fingers and the ability to do what I want.


And I know what I do love.  My amazing boyfriend.  My fantastic apartment in New York city.  My awesome roommate.  


And I love my fantastic life.


But I'm also going to be Aunt Adrienne next March.  And constantly wonder, what the hell am I doing?  


What the hell am I doing?


Love love,
Adrienne