I can vividly remember writing this letter to your next-oldest sibling, who is now a toddler. I was in dire straits in the days I was expecting him--off my antidepressants, ill with hyperparathyroidism, guilt-laden, catastrophically stressed, supplicating to the pregnancy gods that things would work out. All is much better now (knock on wood). Nevertheless, there are some things I would like to ask of you.
1. Could you please stop making me vomit so much. I know that sentence is supposed to have a question mark, but it is a firmer request than that. We are coming up on 12 weeks. The broken blood vessels in my eyes tell me that this much heaving (in addition to this much Zofran) can't be good for either of us.
2. Could you please try to avoid making your grand entrance to the world on Will's birthday (September 19th)? Will shares so much with everyone; I don't think he will want to share his day. Any other day is preferable, even the anniversary day of the 9/11 tragedy. I assume you will stay put through James' (8/5) and Zach's (8/22) since you aren't technically due 'till 10/8.
3. Could you please, please allow me to have some energy this weekend, when your dad will be out of town, sailing to
4. It would be awesome if I didn't pee my pants when I cough, sneeze, or puke (see #1). I know this is outside of your control, but it can't hurt to ask.
5. Please don't develop complications or give me delivery surprises of the unpleasant kind. I'll try to keep my liver and other organs happy as best I may.
Thanks. I love you.