Disclaimer: Through my fanfics, videos and live updates I have become slightly famous. The people that own Grey's Anatomy are really famous. There is the main difference between us. I am not an owner of Grey's Anatomy.

I don't have much to write about this chapter, as I'm writing it immediately after the last one. So can't comment on reviews or anything. So this intro, it's short. This is my first email chapter. Not that it's going to be different at all than my letter chapters. Just it's an email. It's actually the email that Meredith sends Derek Friday after she goes to the doctor's. She has some news.

Enjoy!

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Dear Derek,

It's Friday.

And I'm still feeling like crap. So I kept my promise to you. Well I wasn't going to. But seemingly you got to Cristina. She kept giving me the death glare and complaining that she was sick of you harassing her. So I went to the doctor's.

As it turns out . . . it wasn't a stomach bug.

I hate to sound melodramatic and girly, but you might want to sit down to read the next part of this email. Although I guess you're at a desk, so you probably are sitting down. But if you're not, sit down.

Not that there's something bad wrong, I'm good. I'm fine.

But I'm pregnant.

Seemingly we really could be a condom ad. Because the one time we decide to have sex without a condom, I get knocked up. Oh the irony.

I'm pregnant, Derek.

When I found out I thought about getting an abortion. Really honestly thought of it. Because I know we've talked about having children in the future. Future as in when you're back from Africa, when I'm done my residency, when we're...you know...married. Not now. Now is not that time I want to be pregnant. Now is not a good time. So I thought about having an abortion. I did. But Derek, I just can't. This baby, it's part of you and it's part of me. It's ours. It's the first thing that we've ever shared, and I couldn't end that.

We're having a baby Derek.

I know you're freaking out right now. Probably trying to figure out a way to get out of your commitment. Or just freaking out at the pure prospect of being a dad. But stop. You can stay. I can do this alone. I've been doing things alone my whole entire life. This is just another thing to add to that list. But I'll be fine. I have our mismatched family of everyone. They'll take care of me. I'm fine. And I'm only 6 weeks along. That gives me another 32 weeks. And you're home in about 49. You'll be home long before the baby even realizes you were gone. I can do this. Me and the baby can do this. And when you do get home, we'll figure out things from there. But don't change your plans for us.

And please note, that last paragraph was "strong" Meredith. Real Meredith, the one you claim to love, is in tears begging for you to get your ass back here. Because we're having a baby and that's not something I want to be alone for.

I haven't told anyone here yet. Because you're the dad. You were supposed to know first. And I don't even know what to say to them. Hi, I'm pregnant and the dad is in Africa. But don't worry, life is fine. I'm fine. Derek's fine. Our child will be fine.

How did we end up getting in such a mess? Our lives just can't be simple, it would be too...simple or something. Now I'm starting to sound like George, great.

Derek, part of me is so thrilled to be having this child. Another part is entirely pissed off at you for not being here after you got me pregnant in the first place. And mainly, I'm just terrified. Teriffied that I'm not ready to be a mom, terrified that we're not ready to be parents, terrified that there is no way we'll balance work and family, terrified you're reading this thinking of ways to get rid of me and the child we created. Mainly terrified that I'm not going to be able to do this without you.

God, Der, how am I supposed to do this without you?

I don't want to be all dark and twisty right now. I don't. I'm over the dark and twisty. Bright and shiney, we're bright and shiney.

And pregnant.

There's a living life inside of me right now. That in just over 8 months is going to come out of me and be it's own little person. With lots of dark curly hair probably. And with us as parents, stubborn as all hell.

It's amazing.

And right now I'd be the happiest person on earth if I wasn't a surgical resident and you weren't in Africa.

I really would be.

But life is messy. God, is life messy.

Okay, I could go on. But I think before I say anything more I need to give you time to digest this. Lots and lots of time. So I'm ending this email.

Write back to me when you feel ready to. I don't want to rush you. Take time. Just well, not too much time. Just a little time.

I love you.

I really really love you.

And I miss you. God, I didn't think it was possible to miss you more than I did but I do. I miss you so damn much it scares me.

And by the way . . .shave. I do not care that I'm not there to see you. I do not care that you aren't trying to impress anyone. In my moments of loneliness, usually laying in our half empty bed at night, I like to picture you in Africa saving lives. And you tanned and wearing a ball cap, nice picture. The big bushy beard is throwing me off. And you do not want your pregnant soon-to-be-hormonal girlfriend to be thrown off. So shave. For me. And the baby.

God, baby.

Yours Forever

Meredith

Long ago I reached for you and there you stood.

And much like Meredith is giving time Derek time to digest this news, I'm doing the same. As in not writing a long author's note. Besides this speaks for itself. Meredith is pregnant with Derek's child. She's happy. But she's scared. And she's worried Derek won't be happy.

Next update should be up tomorrow night.

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