You might be saying, you’re pregnant we get it move on already. No. I won’t move on. Being a pregnant millennial is a class all its own. You also might be thinking, I can’t relate to this. Bullshit. If you’ve ever had to be two things at once this is completely relatable. Hear me out. I’m like a fucking brown unicorn. I’m supposed to be this all knowing majestic being, ready to love and care for this child for the rest of my life. When really, I’m just like every kid out here trying to get by without missing another credit card payment. I’m like that used and abused horse the kids ride at the fair except my life is the fair and the kids riding my ass are credit companies. I’m a brown unicorn. I’m expected to fall into the role of a mother as soon as the fetus forms but really I have no idea who I am or what the hell I’m even going to eat for dinner tonight. I’m just like every other millennial out there, it just so happens I’m also growing a child inside of me at the same time.

Here is the thing about being a millennial. I have no idea what I’m going to do when I grow up or how I’m going to figure it out. I google everything because I don’t know how to do anything. When google fails me I call my mom and admit I have no idea how the hell to cook a turkey. I’m still living at home because no one taught me that a credit card would ruin my life let alone three credit cards. All I cared about was travelling and now I probably won’t see another plane for five years while I pay that off. I have a mediocre job that pays barley above minimum wage so really where is that getting me. I went to post-secondary school for 5 years and have almost nothing to show for that. I still eat fruit loops for breakfast and if I have enough time in the morning to make eggs it feels like a huge victory. I am a textbook millennial and now I have to fight that. It’s like I have to rid myself of my millennial skin and re-grow into this new being like a snake shedding her scales. How am I supposed to shed my scales when I’m sitting here writing this, eating chocolate pudding for breakfast because I didn’t wake up early enough to eat cereal this morning?

I haven’t read one parenting book yet and dear god changing a diaper? I’ve changed two in my entire life that I can remember and both times were really shitty disasters. I can hardly make enough time to shower daily and now I have to feed, burp, change, bathe, dress, and entertain a baby? Who has time for all of that? Me apparently. That’s what a mother does right? Being a mom means putting this child first and I am totally okay with that. That means I can forget about how I have no idea what to do with my life and put that aside for a while. I can focus on the new most important thing, that baby girl. That little pamper butt baby. I don’t have the answers for anything and I definitely cannot recite a full lullaby to save my life. Who gave millennials permission to have children…?

I am a brown unicorn. That makes me the underdog. Who doesn’t love a good underdog success story? All I have to do is; birth this child, lover her but not coddle her, make all the right decisions all the time, punish her without giving her complexes, grow her confidence but not her cockiness, and basically take the blame if she turns out to be a criminal. That doesn’t sound too difficult. Shit. I am a brown unicorn.