Dear Baby:
Your daddy and I went to another doctor's appointment today. We are on the every two weeks' routine now, which makes me happy, because it means we get to hear your little heartbeat that much more often. At the last appointment, we had an ultrasound (even more fun!), and learned that you are head-up. The special word for this is called "breech," but around our house, we usually just tell you that you need to "flip it over, baby." This is not the end of the world, but if you don't flip yourself upside down, your mother is going to have to have a C-section, which is also not the end of the world and at least we'd (probably) know the exact day you would arrive weeks in advance - and that would make your planner-happy mommy very glad. However, I'm willing to forgo this convenience in the name of avoiding major surgery...so, please, flip. I am trying to help you by spending time every evening on my knees with my head on a pillow, which obviously isn't working and looks pretty ridiculous.
The good news is that you are just fine, weighing in at 3 pounds, 2 ounces. That was your weight two weeks ago, anyway, and by now I think you're about twelve pounds, given the size of my bursting abdomen and the increase in comments along the lines of "when are you due?!" But you have a little less than two more months in there, so keeping on growing (and flip!).
Baby, one of the things you will find out when you are pregnant (which must not happen for a long, long time), is that sometimes your baby will put some body part into your ribs. Well, little one, currently your head is in my ribs, and it's very uncomfortable. Can you please move? Also, my bladder is not a trampoline. Mommy can only leave a class full of teenagers so many times before they destroy everything.
There's something else you should know: Your father is a good cook, which you will appreciate, because I am not. Usually, though, I do the baking around here, and your daddy steers clear of this field. However, because I'm very pregnant, he's currently destroying the kitchen attempting to make pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese icing. I bet they'll be delicious, but I don't know exactly what's going on in there, and I'm a little worried that I'm going to find it covered in flour and baking powder when I go look. I love that man, but someday the two of you will have a field day making a mess of my kitchen while I listen from another room and cringe. (Honestly, though, sweetheart, I'm looking forward to this, because how cute will that be?!)
I hope you read this (our house has wi-fi, which someday you will appreciate). By now, perhaps you have picked up on some of these reading skills I teach all day long in class, and you're going to come out reciting Homer and O'Henry and maybe even a little Shakespeare.
I'm signing off, so I'm leaving you one last reminder to flip that little body over.
Love,
Mom
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