Sadie,
I'm pregnant.
Pregnant, Sade. Honest-to-God, morning-sickness-and-growing-rounder-each-day pregnant. I've got a bun in the oven, as some might say here in England.
Sadie, I have a kid in my stomach, and I don't know what to do.
I don't know how it could have happened. The last time I…you know…with Tommy, I swear, we used protection. I remember the condoms, Sadie! But they must have been faulty or something, because I took a test, Sade. I took multiple tests. Positive, positive, positive.
Of course, I couldn't see a doctor. If this gets out, it'll ruin me for good. I'll be dropped from my new label and I've barely even started yet. My fans won't respect me. No one will like me. Jesus, Sade, I'm royally screwed.
Maybe my fans will still respect me. I mean, a lot of stars get pregnant. Lots of them are younger than me, even. But I don't know if I can handle the press and the pressure and my label ('cause I'm positive—there's that word again—I'd be dropped. 100% positive).
And I know I can't face Tommy.
Because if you want the truth, I haven't spoken to him since I left. I've wanted to. I've tried. I've called him and texted and written letters, written a letter practically every day, but he never answers. And for more of this fabulous truth telling, I'm not one bit surprised. I broke off our engagement by announcing in concert I'd be leaving alone.
Sadie, if I could go back and do it all over again, I'd do things differently. You know I act on impulse sometimes. I'm a complete idiot, Sadie! I know that it was the right thing to do—leave Tommy behind, I mean—but I could have done it nicer. And maybe if I'd talked to him we'd have been able to work things out. I've been working my ass off over here just because whenever I stop and think this regret burns at me like a fire in my chest.
So obviously, I've written a lot of songs about it.
Sadie, I have no idea what to do. I don't have anyone to turn to except for you. I don't want to worry Dad and I barely speak to Mom. I don't have any girlfriends—my last two have died and kidnapped me, respectively—and what use would Spied, Wally, and Kyle be? I shudder to think what Jamie would say, and Tommy…well, I've already covered that, I think.
Sadie, you've been my rock for so long. I know we've had our rough points, but you've always been there when I needed you and I've tried to be the best sister I can be for you. We've been through a lot together, and now, I need your help to get through this.
When I think about it, Sadie, you're not just my rock. You've got this way of reaching out to everybody around and taking responsibility in a way I never could. I may have gotten the singing voice, but yours is the voice that people really stop and listen to. Luckily for all of us, you use your powers for good and just basically fix our lives up. You're a great friend to have and I'm so glad you're my sister. Just writing to you makes me feel a little more confident, makes me feel like everything will work itself out. I know that once you get involved you'll do everything you can to make it better.
Still, I'm scared. Being pregnant as I am I've had a lot of mood swings, but mostly I'm just scared. I'm scared for a) my career, b) my baby daddy (oh, Lord!), and c) my baby. I'm not ready for this, Sade, not ready for any of it. Just thinking about raising a kid makes my head spin. I'd be a terrible mother. I'm already a terrible role model for my fans. I've made too many bad choices.
And Sadie? I also have a little secret. Even though I'm scared of how much this whole pregnancy thing is going to change my life…I kind of love it. Not the pregnant part, not at all. Being pregnant is a nightmare, trust me. I mean the kid. The little baby inside of me. It's just like, a miracle, Sade. That there's this…this other life inside me. It inspires me and it drives me crazy and makes me sad and happy all at the same time. So even though I mostly just hate it, wish it never happened…part of me is really proud to be carrying this child. And okay, part of me is really proud to be carrying Tom Quincy's child. I love the baby and I love him. I hate that I do, but I can't help it.
I feel like fate is sending me some huge signs; I feel like the universe is telling me to pay attention to something, but I'm not quite sure what it is. And that's what makes me so scared. I feel like my life (and my child's life) is completely out of my hands at this point. I've lost control. Someone else has taken the wheel. I don't know what to do or who to turn to and that's why I need you, Sadie, because I just don't know. I don't know anything. Already, I'm a terrible mother.
I'll try not to do anything stupid until you reply, Sadie, but I'm worried and I'm delicate and my mind is…frazzled, I guess you could say. I really want to come home but I also really want to stay here and finish this album because it's going to be my best yet. I've got a really good feeling about it. But obviously there are some major complications.
Please help me, Sadie.
I'm about four months along.
If you see Tommy, could you tell him I need to talk to him? Urgently?
I love you, Sadie. And thank you. I know you'll do all you can.
Love,
Jude
P.S. One of the songs on my album is about you. It's one of my best.
