Dear baby girl,
I think it's safe to say I've officially "popped." Although I feel like I have looked very obviously pregnant for months now, people still refused to believe it. Like that Safeway clerk that asked me about the meaning of the baby shoe charm I wear around my neck. I told him my aunt gave it to me when I got pregnant, and he asked me how old you were. Infuriated, I pointed him in the direction of my big belly. But this week, these last few days, something changed. People are asking me how far along I am, passengers are insisting that I take their seat on crowded bus rides, and random strangers have started touching my belly. I'm down with the first two, but not so much with the last one.
My midwife told me that my belly is growing out more than most women's because I (and my torso) are so short. While the uterus and baby have room to keeping growing up in taller women, that's not so much the case for us shorties, so out it goes instead. My uterus is already pretty much right below my chest, and it doesn't get up that high for "normal" sized people until they're significantly further along. Which I'm pretty sure means mine will be coming out of my throat in a few weeks time. Where else is it to go? All this belly growing has led to some growing lower back pain, which led me to order a maternity back support belt, which led me to feel about 60 years old. And let me tell you, the strict 9:00 pm bedtime or I'm dead tired the next day isn't helping so much with that either.
As of today though, I've got a big milestone to keep me going. We're officially down to double digits until you get here. Or at least until your estimated due date. Only 99 days to go until I get to meet you! And in case you had any doubt, I foresee myself being pretty annoying about this fact. And by that I mean I foresee myself waking daddy up e.v.e.r.y.m.o.r.n.i.n.g. from now on with a countdown of how many days are left. 98! 97! 96! It'll so be worth the noogie I'm sure he'll give me in return. Plus, I figure it's good prep for the rendition of 99 bottles of beer on the wall that I'm sure you'll grace our ears with one fateful day.