Baby boy,
We're in the last week of the 20s. Wow, time sure does fly. You're the size of a butternut squash this week - close to three pounds and 15 inches long. You're going to double, almost triple, your weight in the next 11 weeks. I don't understand where all that is going to go but I suppose those maternity clothes that seem baggy right now will be a distant memory.
We're both going to gain the most weight in the next few months. I'm not feeling any hungrier really, though. If anything, I have less of an appetite. Last week you sat on my sciatic nerve for a day. Ouch, little man. We can more or less figure out where your head and feet are now, and we poke and prod you every night getting you to respond to our touch. Daddy thinks we're annoying you. I think we're just playing. Either way, I figure you'll get me back over the next six months.
I've been feeling great. Heartburn has subsided as long as I eat small, protein-rich meals, and I'm much more energetic thanks to iron pills. When I first found out about you, everyone kept talking about how a third trimester in the heat of summer would be a challenge. I love the 100-degree Kansas heat so I didn't blink an eye at a large belly and the rising mercury. Let's just say after a weekend of 96-degrees, I now understand.
I can't believe in 11 weeks you'll be with us wherever we go!
Love you,
Mama
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