Friday, 27 February 2015
Dear Baby - 22 Weeks
We've had quite a lot going on this last two weeks, haven't we? We finally got a diagnosis of your heart condition, which lifted a huge weight from the shoulders of Daddy and me. We're so relieved to know what the problem is and how you will be treated for it, and it's given us the confidence to finally start making progress with preparations for your arrival.
Aunty Z (who isn't your real aunty, she's my best friend and although we may not be related by blood she is very much like a sister to me) is being an absolute angel - since we told her we were having you, she's been collecting so much baby stuff for us. We hardly have to buy anything for you so she's saving us hundreds and hundreds of pounds. A lot of it is barely used as well, how great is that? We've made a loose plan to get together over Easter and transfer everything from her house to ours. It will be nice for her to finally see where we have made our home, she's spent 10 years living too far away to travel up but now there's only a 2 hour drive between us, which isn't quite as daunting for her with three children in tow. Those three children are going to adore you, they're so excited to meet you!
You are definitely growing nice and big and strong in there. I suddenly found myself with a noticeable bump last weekend - where did that come from?! It is lovely to finally look pregnant. Your kicks are getting stronger too, although not quite strong enough just yet for Daddy to feel. Do you remember the little chat we had last time about your choice of times for a kickabout? You've either forgotten, or you're a defiant little monkey - 5am is not the time to practice kung fu, and after a long day at the hospital with a ton of information to digest and absorb Mummy wants to go to sleep - you, however, seem to think that's a good day to disco dance until 12.30am. I think we need another talk, little one. I'll be honest though, I think you've inherited my rebellious streak and you're probably going to take no notice of anything I say.
By the way, what's with this favouritism you're already displaying? At first I thought it was just a coincidence that you were giving me a good kicking whenever I tell Daddy off for anything, but it does seem to happen every.single.time - much to his amusement! I hold all the cards my little munchkin; I have the power to decide whether you spend your early days in the Outside World having a jolly lovely time, or being exposed to a constant stream of 90s/00s boybands and being mentally traumatised for life. Just something to mull over in the next four months... I should be your favourite - I'm the one giving you a nice cosy home and I'll be the one keeping you fed, clean and dry. A little gratitude and loyalty wouldn't hurt. I'm fighting a lost battle here aren't I? Sigh.
All my love,