On Friday we had our 30 week check-up. The midwife listened to your heartbeat and told us, "Sounds like a happy baby." I can only imagine that's the truth as you've got one happy Mama, and we're sharing this body of mine (which is getting rounder by the day, as you get bigger by the day). As I write this, your Papa is out mowing the lawn. We have the sweetest smelling air out here at your Grandpa Bob's house--with that wall of honeysuckle in the back yard, and the rose bush under our bedroom window, and now all this fresh cut grass. I cannot wait for the Spring when your little fingers, though still pudgy, will be dexterous enough to carefully extract the nectar from a honeysuckle bloom, just one single drop for your finger tip or tongue. We'll make honeysuckle tea, you and me, and maybe even rub the blooms against our neck like your Papa rubs rosemary sprigs and patchouli leaves against his.
It's nearly summer, Baby, which will bring blackberries and barbecues and birthdays (yours and mine, both, and your Aunt Sierra Dawn's and Grandpa Bob's as well). I'm too eager to speed up the clock.
With love always, Mama