When I found out that I was pregnant at the start of my senior year of college, precisely two things went through my mind:
1.) Oh, crap.
2.) Did I just ruin my life?
Immediately, visions of everything I had planned for my life flashed before me, from the study abroad semester in Italy to the cute downtown apartment to the job where I would stride across the street, coffee in hand, like the opening to every romantic comedy ever made. I feared that having a baby would mean the end to my own life as I knew it, and throughout my entire pregnancy, I mourned the loss of all the things I thought I “should” do before having a baby.
The idea that motherhood means an end to, well, pretty much anything adventurous, is so prevalent these days. In fact, some women are actually creating pre-baby bucket lists, filled with things like eating raw cheeses in France and traveling to soak in hot, bubbling springs. But when it came to my first pregnancy, I have to be honest with you: I didn’t even have time to make a pre-baby bucket list before I was already knocked up.
So, did it hurt me? Am I forever bitter that I didn’t get to check rock climbing and volunteering in a third-world country or writing a book off of my life list? Will I live the rest of my life in endless regret?
Contrary to what I assumed the night I took the pregnancy test, I’ve still been able to accomplish goals that have made me very proud. I’ve been able to run races, start a successful business, give back to others and make a difference, travel to places I had never dreamed about, and yup, even write that book. Quite honestly, my actual “post-baby bucket list” turned out to be way cooler than my pre-baby bucket list would have ever been.