𝑴𝒀 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑬𝑭𝑳𝒀 | 𝑵.𝑹 𝒙 𝑫𝑨𝑼𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑬𝑹

* ˚ ✦ 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝟏

* ˚ ✦ when natasha found out she was pregnant, she created an email address for her child. she sends emails every now and then and will only give the password to y/n once she's 18.
THE ADDRESS EMAIL IS FAKE SO DON'T SEND ANYTHING ON IT

gymnopédie no 1 - erik satie
1:13 ──〇──── 3:25
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

warning none
age //

!ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS IS MY OWN STORY!

⸺ ⧗ ⸺

Dear Baby
from Natasha Romanoff <natasha.romanoff@gmail.com>
to me ▼

Dear Baby,

You've been growing in my womb for over 30 weeks now. It feels like forever ago since I took that positive pregnancy test and started noticing my growing belly. Now the third trimester is here and the end of this pregnancy is in sight! And while your due date is so close, it seems like we still have forever to go...

Just when I'm sure that you've grown as much as is physically possible, each week my belly gets bigger. And while I know that means you are growing and developing (as you should be!) I can tell you it's not exactly comfortable for me. You better believe I've mastered the pregnant waddle (walking normally is so overrated). I definitely should have dressed up as a penguin for Halloween this year. I've also reached the point in this pregnancy where even my maternity clothes don't always cover my growing belly (aka your growing home). There is nothing quite like the feeling that comes with outgrowing maternity clothes.

If I had to guess, I'd say you are having a fun time in there. It's hard to tell if you are doing gymnastics on my bladder or just practising some crazy dance moves, but you sure are active! Don't worry, most of the time I love the reminder that there is a little active life inside of me. But is 2am really the best time for your dance parties? Not complaining, just trying to give a helpful suggestion. Growing a tiny human is pretty exhausting, so I'm trying to get as much sleep as I can before you come. But some nights you sure do make that quite the challenge!

Speaking of challenges, I do hope you don't grow up to be a picky eater. Because now I seem to get a craving for some type of food and then after I've eaten that food I get the most terrible heartburn. Even the most normal foods cause me to have awful heartburn. And if all of these foods bother you once you are born, boy we sure are in for some struggles! Let's just hope this is a short phase and not an indicator of the future.

So here I am, thirty weeks pregnant, and wondering how on earth I'm going to make it another ten weeks until you decide to make your way out. Every now and then, I'll sit here and wish that I could speed this up, to help you grow faster, to get you out of my womb and into my arms as quickly as humanly possible.

But then again, why rush? You're going to be rushed your entire life.

From the first second you open your crusty little eyes, everything's a race. It's a race to get you out, to cut your umbilical cord (which I know is your lifeline right now, but don't panic), to get you weighed, get you vaccinated, clean you off, and get you onto my boob for that "you're-probably-starving-from-your-travel-here-have-a-snack" feeding. It's going to be completely overwhelming, and you'll scream your freshly-developed little lungs out...and you should. From that moment on, there's no more cuddling up in my uterus, playing xylophone on my ribs, or practising ninja moves on my bladder, where your only worries are to grow big and strong, and to make sure you find the exit with your head, not your feet. No, from that moment on, you're on the outside, with a whole new set of problems.