Dear Moe (Week 12)

Twelve weeks! You are entering your second trimester, little bean, and you're getting bigger. You're about 2 inches long - from the tip of your little head to your bum - and my uterus is starting to pooch out a little.

And we have our first appointment with Dr. P. on September 1 (after which we'll do a bunch of blood work), and an ultrasound on September 8. I'm excited for that - I'd like to see you again, and hear your little heart beating nice and strong.

We're going to throw a party in honour of all the friends and family who have been so supportive of us in our journey to get this far. It will be on Saturday, October 17. Hopefully you'll be able to feel all the love around you - we're even expecting some guests from out of town who would like to come and celebrate with us.

As our confidence increases, so does our willingness to plan for the future. I'm doing a lot of reading about the birth process, giving some thought as to how we would like things to go (with the understanding that nothing in this process has gone according to plan, and why should it begin now), we're going to look into pre-natal classes, and we're taking stock of what people are giving us and what we need to get for you. It was very surreal to start a registry for you, Moe. It felt like I might be jinxing things, but I think you are a strong little bean with the resilience of your parents.

And I have to be resilient, because I've been feeling like crap lately. I think the nausea has gotten worse, along with the dry mouth. Granny bought us a box of popsicles on the weekend, and we're pretty much all the way through them. (She offered when she saw me sucking on an ice cube.) And I'm a little concerned about how much sugar I'm eating. I find that juice and Sprite and ginger ale settle my stomach and take care of the bad taste in my mouth, but that's getting to be a lot of sugar. So I'm trying to be a bit more aware of that. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm lacking some protein right now - I can't face eggs or meat. So I've been eating nuts out of desperation. (Although apparently, this could increase your chances of childhood asthma. Good grief, Moe. Is there anything I can eat?) When I finally meet with Dr. P., I'm going to ask him about diclectin.

But, having said all this, even if the nausea goes (please no) for six more months, it's worth it for you, Moe. Keep growing, keep soaking up our love.