I wasn’t quite panicked, but I was aware of the impending doom. To quote the speech I gave at her wedding, can you blame me for being afraid to lose someone I’ve been connected to like a twin since birth?

We booked my flights to Portugal that afternoon. 

We’d planned plenty of trips before, but this one was different—more emotional, with higher stakes. Also, more rules.

I should admit that when Julia told us she was pregnant and wanted to go to Portugal regardless, the first thought I had was, “You’re getting on a plane with that thing?” And by “that thing,” I meant, “that child.” Julia confirmed it would be fine because the trip was during her second trimester—generally considered the safest and most comfortable time to travel during a pregnancy. We decided to give the babymoon four days. It seemed like the perfect amount of time to relax and explore without exhausting anyone, especially Julia. But then we had to settle on activities, and with activities came considerations.

Wine country was out of the question. Spas are less enjoyable for pregnant women than the movies make them out to be; too hot. So we settled on Portugal’s Algarve region because of the range of relaxed activities and the reasonable flight time.

While Julia likes to save and Marina likes to socialize, this was not a time to skimp on a hostel and relive our glory days of backpacking around Europe. I knew that traveling with a pregnant person meant we might spend more time in the hotel. We wanted to make sure if Julia got tired or sick, we were in a comfortable and pleasant environment. (FYI: We found just that at Tivoli Lagos, steps from old town.)

Our first night, I cuddled up next to Julia in her bed—food baby to actual baby. This was my best friend of forever, and there was life growing inside the same stomach we’d spent countless childhood nights stuffing with Dominos. I was flooded with memories, and, of course, emotions. When we were kids, this was the best part of the night. Both of us squished into her childhood twin bed, recapping the highlights from the parties we’d just gotten home from or the “all-nighter” we’d attempted to pull. We’ve swapped out the parties for dinners and the all-nighters for train rides home from Marina’s place, but other than that, not much has changed.

Curled up in Portugal, I felt a sudden calmness. We’re closer than ever. Change is coming, sure as a new school year at the end of the summer. But we’re ready for it.

The next morning, we migrated to the hotel’s private beach. We spent the next several hours under an umbrella. The sand between our toes, we vowed not to fall into the common beach-trap of complaining about our bikini bodies or lack thereof. Julia wanted to practice self-love so that her child would know nothing else. We didn’t have her excuse, but decided then and there to be kind to ourselves on the trip, too.

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