Dear Baby,
Maths says you are supposed to arrive tomorrow, but since you haven't learned maths yet, I'm pretty sure you are still a few days away. You seem pretty comfy in there, apart from when you stretch your feet out under my ribs and squirm. I guess it's pretty squashy.
You will be pleased to find, I think, that there is plenty of room out here to stretch. Vast amounts actually, especially for a small person. However, I don't want to freak you out, I will stay close. You don't have to go anywhere without me until you want to. In fact, it won't really be that different out here except maybe the sounds will be a little clearer. There will be plenty of comfort and warmth and good smells and tastes.
I thought you were coming on Saturday night, when all those practice contractions were squishing us. You seemed to have a lot to say that evening, lots of rolling around. Were you thinking about it? It's okay if you chickened out. Soon though, yeah?
I have started to receive lots of messages from people waiting to hear about you. You don't know any of them yet, but you're already famous. I keep seeing things I know you'll be interested in, like ducks and flowers and bugs. I'll tell you about those later. There really is a lot to see and do.
In the meantime, gather your strength Baby. That's what I'm doing. There'll be just a little hurdle, then we can play.
Love Mama
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