I swore, as my teenage friends became mothers, that I would be one of the last to get pregnant. I'm not the last, but I waited another 15 years on average. To put it in perspective, a couple of my friends daughters have their learners permits to legally drive, while you can't even sit up on your own.
I found your father. I stopped drinking, left my job, left my home, left my familiar city of the last 13 years, left my adorable perfect apartment, left the strip of night clubs, and left several close friends behind. I also lost my figure. All to meet you. To watch you grow and interact with the world.
I didn't actually know you would ever come when I gave up my life, I just wanted to be closer to your father after 4 months of dating. And I was sick of the construction on my daily commute to my mediocre job. And I was bored of clubbing and drinking was giving me awful hangovers. So really I would have done what I did with or without creating you several months later, but that wouldn't make a good compelling origin story would it? And besides, I can still guilt trip you for causing me to loose my figure.
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