Dear Baby: Soooo, maybe your daddy and I went to Gap last weekend to buy you a “coming home from the hospital outfit” and ended up buying you a whole teeny-tiny wardrobe because your mama can’t make up her mind about anything these days… Thank goodness for that employee discount.
Dear Nursery: You are so close to being finished! And I can’t even believe how adorable you look. I think you’re probably my favorite room in the whole house right now.
Dear Belly: Holy moly you’re big. How is it that there’s still 8 weeks to go? Is it possible to get even bigger?
Dear Closet: Ugh, nothing fits.
Dear Washing Machine: I realize that I have washed none of the baby stuff yet (I was saving it for the beginning of my maternity leave, which starts a bit before my actual due date), but I’m not really sure how I’m going to wash everything if I can’t reach the bottom of the washer with this giant belly in the way. I feel like a t-rex with this big belly and short little arms.
Dear Third Trimester: You’re really tiring. I could literally sleep like 16+ hours a day at this point. Apparently the end of pregnancy turns you into a cat.
Dear Waist: Remember when I had one? Ah, memories…
Dear Tabbouleh: You are so delicious! What a good choice this week. (And it made me not feel so bad for eating half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s afterward…)
Dear Baby Foot: Um, just so you know, pushing through my right waist isn’t the preferred exit strategy.
Dear KC: Can you believe we’re going to be parents after next month? It’s kind of crazy, considering that when we started dating I couldn’t legally buy booze yet and you thought shopping at Pac Sun was fancy. Man, so much has changed! (Except for the fact that I still love you a whoooole lot.)
Love, Chelsea