Dear Gestating Baby,
As I write this, the morning sun is streaming in the living room windows, and I know that Spring is coming. With Spring comes your arrival, which of course I am eagerly anticipating. Though you haven't been born yet, you already make your presence known in many ways throughout my day. Just a moment ago, as I typed an email to a friend on my laptop, you kicked so forcefully that the movement was visible from the outside. I guess you're hungry, since I slept in this morning and haven't had breakfast yet.
It's an amusing pastime to be able to interpret your kicks and swirls however I please. If you kick during a song or movie I enjoy, I say, "Oh, the baby likes this too." If you happen to kick right after your dad makes some declaration about something that I find ridiculous, I tell him your kick indicates your displeasure with his statement. The power!
Though you've now been alive for 23 weeks, and are growing quite rapidly, the kicks and jabs don't cause me any pain. I'm hoping this means that you are in a perfect position for being born - it certainly doesn't feel like your head is in my ribcage. At this point, I think you are still able to move around a little bit in there, though I understand that in the next few weeks you will have to make up your mind and choose whichever position you will remain in until birth.
Speaking of birth - my widgetbaby tells me you are "due" to be born in 100 days.
When I first downloaded that widgetbaby, days after learning of your existence, the countdown said I had some 250 days to go. That just seemed overwhelming. Now, in what seems a blink of an eye, we are about to enter double digits . I know that due dates are all estimates anyway, and that you will be born when and how you choose, but just between you and me - I have a sneaking suspicion that you might be one of those 4% who appear on the exact date they're predicted. I'm not ready to tell you why I think that, but I promise I will someday, whether I'm right or wrong.
I took the day off work today because I find myself growing entirely disinterested in anything that doesn't directly (and positively) affect my health, my family, or preparations for your arrival. Spending 7 hours a day in an uncomfortable office chair definitely doesn't fall into those categories. I'm looking forward to spending a lazy day at home with you, doing some chores and working on your baby blanket.
Well, I guess I'll sign off now and go get some breakfast. I love you, little baby - keep on growing and getting stronger and healthier and more ready to be born, and I'll see you in approximately 100 days.