My stomach turns. Nausea has set in. Every five minutes I run to the bathroom. Why? You are the peppercorn, how could you possibly put that much pressure on my bladder? A peppercorn not a bowling ball.
I’m still not sure how something so impossibly small has taken over my house. You have me twisted. Starving one moment and ready to puke the next.
You have your father running in circles trying to understand what I want to eat and very sad that he doesn’t get any input when I fantasize about the food I want.
Your big sister is going nuts trying to take a picture of you through my belly and wondering when we get to take you out. She isn’t able to wait five minutes let alone eight more months.
But none of that matters, because this week your heart began to beat. That’s all that matters is that today your heart beats.