mercurial scribe

Dear Miri,

Christmas has come and gone. All throughout the week, all Daddy and I could think about was how you would be somewhere around 8 months old at this time next year. I already have our Christmas picture for next year figured out: you will be in a Santa dress and Zoe will have antlers and elf shoes.

Yeah, we haven’t been thinking of you at all.

I’m told you’re about 14 inches long and between a pound and half to two pounds in weight. Not that they needed to tell me your were growing - I have the stretch marks to prove it! And the “round ligament” pain. And the backaches. Did I mention that you are making my body hurt, like, a lot?

But because I love you so much, I endure. But I gripe nonetheless.

Alas, I’m getting used to the fact that the “honeymoon” phase of this pregnancy is over. You are taking over my lung and stomach space. I can only eat about a cup and a half of food every few hours - and if I don’t eat, I get FAMISHED. Apparently, so do you and boy do you let me know it! Considering I used to be able to pound as many burgers as your father, this is a considerable change. That’s not to mention how all your growing has also exhausted me. I’m now sleeping 12-14 hours a day between my meds and funding your very-demanding energy needs. This leaves me very little time to do everything else like eating, paying bills, necking with your father. I only slightly resent this as I do love both my bed and sleeping. And now we (you and I) can con Daddy into a long, languid nap in the afternoon now that he’s on Christmas vacation.

Naps are good. Remember that!

Love,
Mommy

ps - Mommy got a new digital camera for Christmas, so I can take bazillions of pictures of you once you’re born! And, of course, belly shots of you in utero. Which I will post as soon as I get a memory card and figure out how to transfer the files from the memory card to the computer. Grr…