The Fire Within
Dear Little George,
Holy cow. Everything was going so well. So well that (here I guiltily admit) it was really easy to forget for long periods that you're around. Having been through this before, I knew this was the honeymoon of pregnancy - I've had all the energy in the world, I've been able to eat just about anything and I've been no hungrier than my usual non-pregnant self. I expected the honeymoon to last until sometime in the third trimester. However, on Monday Simon and Matthew made a fresh blueberry lemon pie that I greedily consumed (not the whole thing of course, only one slice). Thirty minutes later it felt like I'd swallowed a burning briquette and the feeling hasn't dissipated - three days later. I "slept" sitting up on the couch last night. I've swallowed the maximum dose that Tums recommends and it hasn't helped one bit. Please make it stop. I need more time!
Love,
Mama
P.S. Your brother thinks it is hysterical when the fish shaped potholders talk to you. Also? He's named you "Poo Poo." I think that is actually a compliment. "Poo Poo" is the greatest word on earth.