A letter to my unborn child
Dear son or daughter (or non-gender conforming offspring),
Do not open this letter until after I am gone. I’d say give or take the year 2050, maybe 2060 if I go vegan.
I’m writing this in November 2020, which hasn’t been the best month/year to be honest, but I must be optimistic about the future, your future. Maybe you can be the one to change the world? No pressure.
I’m 12 weeks into my pregnancy with you, my little miracle. I’m so excited to welcome you into my life, and humble brag about you and my full life on social media. Knowing you are on your way has already helped to ease my crushing loneliness.
You may wonder who your father was. Maybe you’ve even investigated your heritage via a DNA test. All I can tell you is that your father was a wonderful man. I didn’t know him but that’s what the profile said. His genes were highly rated. I think he was Italian.
If you want to know who your mother was, after you’ve reviewed my Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and LinkedIn profiles, you can listen to my podcast. It was just taking off in 2020. I had some pretty clever tweets over the years too.
You’ll see from my posts that I am an avid snorkeler and scuba diver. I love exploring the ocean and its colourful creatures. My best diving trips were to the Great Barrier Reef in Australia and island hopping in Micronesia. I also love my girls’ trips to Miami, hiking in Glacier National Park in Montana, and touring the canals of Venice, Italy. I hope you get to explore all these wonderful places and more. But your carbon footprint is your problem after you leave home.
You may be wondering why I brought you into a world filled with strife, hatred, instability, inequality, racism, and a rapidly changing climate. Every generation has its challenges. I grew up worried about….well, those same issues, but they didn’t seem as bad then. They didn’t really put a damper on my life.
I assume things will get better by 2050. Many earnest people — and those geniuses in Silicon Valley — are working on it. I’m not religious but I am pretty sure God will swoop in and make things right, if all else fails. And, are things really so bad? Some people are so alarmist and negative. Haven’t we always had flooding, droughts and fires that destroy half the state of California?
I hope you are able to pursue your dreams. Whether your dream is to become a marine biologist, a nurse, or maybe a firefighter or astronaut are good career paths to consider. Or maybe the army. I’ll bet some of those skills would come in handy. Also try to pick a career that a robot can’t do better.
Honey, if life sucks in 2050, please don’t hate me. How was I supposed to know? Ok, Greta Thunberg and the scientists warned us, but who listens to a teenage girl? Or scientists for that matter?
Don’t miss me. I’m sure I’m in a better place now. (Definitely better than someone trying to eke out an adulthood post 2030). I hope I made you feel safe.
Love,
Mom
PS — Actually I am not anyone’s mother. This letter is part of a time capsule, buried alongside Biden/Harris paraphernalia, a COVID-19 test kit and other remnants of 2020, in the garden of the home I need to sell after losing my job. I decided not to have children because of climate change and/or emotional scars from childhood that I keep deeply hidden.
