Dear Child of Mine

GET OUT!

So I'm 41 weeks pregnant. Not a huge deal, first pregnancies are supposed to drag on a bit. But this is a bummer because, should my darling angel not make an appearance by Monday, I'll be induced. This'll mean going into the skanky public hospital, not hanging out in a warm pool in my living room.

I'm fretting over this. In a town with, I don't know, something stupid like 15% unemployment, there are lots of poor people. And we all know how much poor people like having babies. Thankfully, I have private health insurance, so am assured a room of my own, should one be available, but it's exactly that 'should one be available' bit that's worrying me.

I've been having vivid nightmares about being in a ward, surrounded by smelly people with ugly faces & horrible clothes. They'll all be barefoot, and coughing up phlegm, and talkin loike this. And why are they always missing teeth?

So all my concentration at the moment is focussed on making this baby vacate my uterus. Not an easy feat, considering his head isn't even engaged. I mean, it was about 6 weeks ago, but now he's just floating around in there, footloose and fancy-free.

Not even born yet, and already my child is going out of his way to make my life difficult. I'm so proud.

Please come out, sweetheart. You have a pirate outfit ready to wear. And Daddy has awesome plans for the Ultimate Baby Fighting League.