The soft rays of sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as Cristine sat on the edge of the bed, a blank journal open in her lap. Her fingers hovered over the pen she held, her heart heavy with thoughts she couldn’t ignore.
This was a day she had decided to dedicate to something personal—something intimate.
It wasn’t Andrei’s idea, nor Maria’s suggestion. It was something Cristine felt she needed. A way to capture her journey, not just as a woman, but now as a mother-to-be.
She glanced at the cover of the journal, simple and unadorned, except for the faint embossed letters on the corner that read *“For Baby.”*
With a deep breath, she started writing.
*Dear Baby,*
*I don’t know where to begin. I never imagined myself writing something like this, ye
