i want to thank you very much for not making me feel like i need to puke all the time. that is very nice of you and i will try to remember this solid favour you've done me in about 15 years from now when you want to dye your hair pink or pierce something or split something in half or whatever the hell the future cool kids are doing. i do feel overwhelmingly tired basically all the time, which is kind of lame, but i guess i'm able to nap pretty well whenever i want, so it could be a lot worse. my tits feel like they weigh 14328219 lbs each and are full of hot coals. that sucks. i'll still take being tired with sore boobs over puking and dry heaving any day.
your dad ordered a couple books about being a daddy off of amazon today, which i found to be incredibly cute. you'll like your dad. he's a nice guy. he's going to take you bowling a lot. you'll probably be better at bowling than i am before you can walk. if you're lucky you'll get his math and sports genes. if you're unlucky you'll get my falling down and bumping into stuff genes. it's a craps shoot, this genetics shit. maybe you'll get my loves to cook genes. if not, i will teach you. nature vs. nurture ftw.
i'm feeling really happy, embryo. things are so good in our lives, and we're going to try our best not to fuck you over too badly. it's a lot of responsibility, and it's scary, but i think we'll be good parents to you. you also have grandparents, an uncle and a bunch of cousins who are all awesome and are going to smother you with love. love and unsolicited advice. you'll get used to it.
anyhow... i know you're in there, and i hope you're finding my uterus a nice comfy place to grow. you are the size of a blueberry this week, and 10.000 times bigger than you were at conception. that's some crazy shit. hopefully some time soon we'll be able to see you on an ultrasound and listen to your heartbeat. i think i'll probably cry at that moment. i do that more often these days, especially while watching anything on the national geographic channel.
love, your mom.