At first I felt terrible. I haven't taken pictures like I did with your sister. I haven't been as diligent about detailing all of the stories. I have been doing what people say they do with the second... what I said I would never do. My 28 year brother, your uncle, still talks about how he doesn't have a baby book. Would this would not be the fate of my beloved second child? NO way. NO HOW!
But you know what? Forget it. I'm sorry but beyond that, I release my guilt. While I hate to (start) comparing, for the record your sister NEVER beat the crap out of me like you do. She never bruised me from the inside out. I mean I joked about it, but she never physically roughed me up. Last week you were breech, I felt it happen and then I felt you go right side down. You know what? That was the opposite of awesome. I've got the sug, my mac & cheese counts are low. All I want to do is eat ice cream all day, but instead I have to deal with seltzer water instead. A mother's memory is long, my friend. And despite what my doctor assures me, you have decided to start to make the commute "home." Everyone says this 'pressure' is 'normal.' I beg to differ. My normal is your sister - who stayed as far North as possible, some might say held anchor to my esophagus for dear life so this
piercing pain constant ache opening of sesame 'pressure' is not NORMAL.
Listen, you don't have much more time. Just stay put, relax and get comfortable. Don't worry, we won't leave you cooking for 3 months, like I think we did your sister. Next week this will all be over. Just kick back, grab hold of that esophagus and leave your
carrier mother be. Stop will all the nonsense.