Eviction Notice

My dear child, darling offspring, fruit of my loins, progeny, tiny person taking up too much space in my insides:

This notice is official. You're due to come out tomorrow, and darn it, I expect you to do just that. This body ain't big enough for the both of us, ombre. Someone's got to go, and considering I've only been housing you the past nine months so you could grow a body of your very own, I suggest that the person who needs to go is you.

Seeing as how you now make it nigh on physically impossible to put on and tie my own shoes, I submit to you the idea that we've reached an impasse, you and I. We simply can't go on this way. Since you're my baby, some day you'll know enough to say to me, "Mom: in the immortal words of Lennon and McCartney, 'we can work it out'!", but right now you haven't quite learned that valuable musical lesson yet. And anyway, the only working out I intend for us to do is for me to work to get you into the bright world outside of your watery uterine home. Sorry if that seems harsh, but hey: we've got to cut the cord some time...let's make it this week, shall we?

Besides, think of how much more fun we'll be to one another when we can interact face-to-face. When your daddy can play more interesting games than "What's This Limb I'm Poking?" or "Count the Vicious Jabs to Mommy's Abdomen". And considering how much you seem to enjoy stretching your legs (at the expense of my already-over-stretched skin and muscles, I might add), just think of all the room you can have in a world that extends more than 3" on any given side beyond your cramped and curled body. If you oblige my request and decide to be born...now-ish - I can give you all the space in the world to stretch out those bowed little legs and those pigeon-toed little feet! You can extend them to their fullest reach! And I won't have to push them back into a folded position because they're threatening to burst my insides like that creepy scene in Alien. Just imagine the possibilities, Baby.