Last night I pushed on my belly and felt you push against my hand. I can't believe how strong you've become! Your dad is away this week, but I'm excited for him to feel it. Sometimes I watch my stomach and see you rolling around inside. You're the size of an eggplant, but I remember when you were only a poppy seed. Now you are a real little person, with a personality I can sense. You don't like to be squashed when I lie on my side. You jump if you hear a loud noise. You relax when your dad's big warm hands are on my belly.
I keep rearranging the furniture in your room. I worry whether or not you'll like it. I worry that the fabric in your clothing won't be soft enough or warm enough. I keep looking for hats to keep your head warm, but I can't find any that are good enough for you.
