Dear Creature #2,
While I am not yet ready for you to 'drop' and spend the next several weeks feeling like I have a bowling ball in my knickers, I would appreciate it if you'd stop looking for every available exit. There is no fabled 'northerly passage'. Please stop trying to break out through my digestive system. Every exploratory probe is sending stomach acid searing upwards. I am tired of people asking whether I'm 'carrying high' or if it is indeed the world's largest goiter.
In return I promise I'll try and take it a bit easier and limit the intake of crap food. Oh, and I promise I won't call you Chastity, or Britknee.
That letter was composed at around 3am last night as I lay awake miserable with creature #2 partying like it was 1999 in my belly. 'Lay' awake is a bit of a misnomer, as anything other than a sitting position left me wracked with heartburn. Of course, I can't blame her totally, I have started eating jar after jar of pink grapefruit (that's 5-6 grapefruit per jar) so some of the acid may be self-inflicted (ya think?).
Besides, she can party all she wants, as long as it reassures me she's literally alive and kicking. I have another ultrasound tomorrow, officially beginning my 'high-risk pregnancy lets beat the number of times you can see a doctor a week record'. I am excited to get to see her - I've only ever had ultrasounds at 18-20 weeks before so I've only ever seen skeletal babies. Creature #2 could now theoretically make it on the outside, so she'll look like a proper baby. Of course that's my concern. She could make it on the outside, and because of the 2-vessel cord issue they may decide she needs to, and after the debacle of the last ultrasound you can guarantee I won't just be lying awake with heartburn tonight.....