Let's take the E

Dear Andersen:

You may notice that we have changed the spelling of your name. Consider it an argument won by Dad. His winning point is that he isn't going to fight me over a girl's name, so he should get to spell your name. I'll let him have that one.

I don't have a lot of time at this moment to write to you, I just wanted to get some ideas down before I forgot them. Those two things seem to be happening a lot here lately...I have no time and when I do, and I can't remember what I was going to do with that time. Since I've got a birthday looming, we'll blame it on old age.

Daddy felt you kick me from the outside for the first time yesterday morning. I woke him at 4:30 AM. "GIVE ME YOUR HAND!!" I'm sure he thought the world was going bonkers or something. Then I placed his hand on my abdomen and told him to wait. I felt his arm jolt when he felt you kick. I'm glad he's finally able to share that with me. All of these weeks I've felt you squirm around and I've wished that your Dad could share in that. Now he can. I would appreciate it, though, if you could avoid the bladder area. Your dad would appreciate it if you would avoid my colon area. The dog would, too.

I don't know what they are talking about. I never smell anything. You have my sinuses so congested I'm probably going to have to attend physical therapy for breathing when this is all said and done. It'll be our first group activity!

There is one other thing I don't want to forget...the first time I felt you move. It was a Sunday and we were at Barnes & Noble waiting for a movie matinee to start. I was walking around looking at all of the wonderful books and I felt something weird. I stopped moving, hoping to feel it again, but nothing. As soon as I started walking, I felt the flutter again. Stop, start, stop, start. After a few moments, you cooperated and I felt you move while standing still. Let me tell you, I didn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Everyone tells me I should dance and I will feel you move even more. I've tried that. You never move when I dance. Let me stop, though, and you start doing the jitterbug. It makes me laugh.

I can't wait until we can dance face-to-face. Be forewarned, though...the dog will be jealous...so all three of us will be dancing together. Four, when Dad joins in.

Love,
Mom.