Sunday, February 12, 2012

16 weeks

Hi baby,

Today, you're 16 weeks old, and I've been spending the last one intermittently prodding and cupping my hands over you, hoping to feel you move around. Because, quite honestly, my biggest fear right now is that I'm talking to someone who has ceased to exist, but my body doesn't know yet. It has made it very hard to completely throw myself into excitement over you, even though other people who find out are doing more than my share. Baby, I hope that you're in there, and are just getting pissed off at being disturbed, and bidding your time for kicking revenge on my organs from the inside.

When your dad and I found out about you, we looked up information on what you might look like, since you would mostly be invisible to us for the next 8 months excepting quarterly ultrasounds. This site said that you were about the size of a sesame seed, so we temporarily named you Goma-chan in utero. I hope you don't mind, because this nickname will probably come up repeatedly throughout your life, which you will probably hate and then grow to think of with a begrudging affection.

We have decided that we don't want to know your gender. Your dad (having been educated in the process of decision analysis), says things like "how would this change what we do?" I have mostly been grappling with a growing dread of receiving clothing that proclaims you are "Daddy's Princess!" in sparkly magenta.

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