After our first US, we heard the heartbeat of our 🌈 baby I'm so excited and yet I'm having a mini panic after I realized that my youth might be over. Instead of our usual red wine drunken Friday night, I fell asleep on the couch at 745 last night, completely sober and boring. We are known for throwing the best parties. I am the happy hour queen! Now what? By the time we emerge from this pregnancy, we'll be...older. I know I'm supposed to be smitten about this baby, but I am my own woman, and I'm about to share my body and my life with a baby, and I just want to be real and admit that it's not all motherly giggles over here. What's a pregnant feminist to do?