There’s nothing like waking up at noon, taking off your eye mask, finding your phone somewhere in your bed, checking your emails and finding a brand new GOOP in your inbox. It’s really the sign of a blessed day–except when said GOOP is all about maternity and babies. I get it, women get pregnant, they eat carbs, they gain weight, they give birth, it’s sick, terrible for all people involved, and their vaginas are never the same. Why would I want to hear anything about that? Doesn’t Gwyneth know me by now? I barely got through the maternity wear section before running to the bathroom to puke (I had a lot of champagne last night, and maternity clothing is a major digestive trigger for me. I can’t help who I am).
After I canceled my Bar Method class (puking = no need to exercise) I was laying on the cold bathroom floor and decided to read on. It was only after I’d finished the entire newsletter that it hit me: I’m not getting any younger. I’m turning 25 this year, which means that I could actually get pregnant any day now, and there would be no stigmas attached. I’d just be a young, cool, mom, like Nicole Richie or Miranda Kerr or Neil Patrick Harris. Plus, my body is, like, ready to be pregnant, thanks to the fact that I’ve completed all my laser hair removal treatments. I could even decide to adopt, and forgo carbs and weight gain altogether. Therefore, I want to start preparing for pregnancy/adoption/aging by making a list of potential baby names.
Well that’s my list. If any of you psychos think about stealing one of these names, don’t even. My dad’s a lawyer. You should also share your baby names just to be safe. Everyone knows the rule: once they’re publicly stated, they’re yours forever.