Friday, 10 October 2008

a letter to a spaceghost

my dear squirmy little baby. you have no idea how glad i am that you have finally decided to move enough for me to feel you. for daddy to feel you. truly, i thought my heart was going to burst when i felt you go wild in there and realised you were ok. but honestly? the rolling? its creepy.

i love the kicks, or punches, or headbutts, or whatever they are, though i realise i wont in a few months when your feet reside inside my ribcage like your brothers did, or you try to break my pelvis with your head - you cant do that you know. i have very strong bones, and yours are soft and rubbery. it. wont. work.

i love the weird little jumps, though i know that regular hic-coughs will drive me nuts when they start jiggling my bladder.

but when it feels like someone is rolling a ball from one side of my stomach to the other from the inside, its creepy. it feels like theres an alien inside trying to get out. THAT IS NOT THE EXIT, AND YOU ARE NOT COOKED YET.

you will know when you're cooked. you wont be able to move cause youll be too squashed. but youll try anyway, and ill wonder when oh when will this all be over? then my body will take over and you will be expelled, and i will hold you and love you and you will most likely squeak like your brother did.

i love you little spaceghost, more and more every day, but i would appreciate it if you would restrict yourself to kicks and jumps. the rolls... i do not like the rolls. and will like them less when you get strong enough to make it visible.

all my love,
mummy

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