We’re excited to partner with writer Amy Roth, age 28, as she documents her thoughts and emotions throughout her first pregnancy as an expectant “Millennial” mom. This is her first post in the series. Check back soon for her post on her second trimester!
The year 1989 brought us the fall of the Berlin Wall, Madonna getting spiritual with her “Like a Prayer” music video, and the births of millennials everywhere. I, along with Taylor Swift and Daniel Radcliffe, was born in the year 1989. I am the baby of my family, with a significant age difference between my older sisters and me, so you might say that I grew up slightly…catered to. I essentially had three mothers fussing over me, and I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t/don’t enjoy it.
I married young, and have since been soaking up the best childless years of my life until this past August rolled around, when I turned 28. While 28 is still young, I felt like my body was starting to whisper, “Hi, we’re not going to be young forever, and you want multiple kids, so you might want to think about getting pregnant soon, mmkay?” So I broached the subject with the husband, who, like me, had been blissfully sailing along on the tide of childlessness. We weren’t extremely excited to end this chapter of our lives, but we agreed that if we want children (and we do), it may be time to start trying.
In late October, we took a vacation to Kauai and decided that this would be the place where the baby-making would commence. I was convinced that it would take several months to conceive, so when I found out that I was pregnant on November 10 (our move-in day at our first house), I was shook. Even more shook? My sweet husband. We couldn’t believe it had happened on the first try. It was truly a wonderful blessing, but extremely surreal.
How did it happen so quickly, and bigger question—how can a baby have a baby?! How do I go from being a child who spends her days liking memes on Instagram and spending way too much money on cold-pressed juices, to becoming a “parent?” I require my own mom to affirm for me regularly that I’m still her baby (and her favorite, which she never admits, even though we both know it’s true). I’ve always been the “littlest.” How can it already be my turn? My first trimester was shaded with denial and an acute desire for red wine. Lots of red wine. 
The second trimester has been a welcome relief (goodbye nausea, hello elastic waistbands!), and hearing our little baby’s heartbeat has made everything seem so much more real. I think about baby all the time, and have started what is arguably the biggest upside to pregnancy: building the registry. I’ve also discovered just how wonderful the timeline of pregnancy truly is—you have nine months to prepare physically, mentally, and emotionally, and I will need every moment of these nine months to get ready. I am finally getting very excited, and am coming around to the idea that I may actually be able to do this.
The biggest realization I’ve come to throughout this pregnancy is that my life is no longer going to be about me. I have been so hesitant to lean in to the “mom” thing because I have been so comfortable doing the “kid” thing, but watching my baby bump grow and feeling the ever-so-slight kicks and tumbles in my belly has made me realize that this will be a great thing. Maybe becoming more selfless and figuring out how to love something more than myself and my own comfort will be one of the best things I’ll ever do. My hope is that love and resilience are growing within me, just as the baby is growing: little by little, and day by day. And hopefully I will come out on the other side a much stronger millennial…mom.
