A Letter For Ezra; Alternately Titled: (In The Approximate, Appended Words of The Great Mariah Carey); Get Outta My Ribs Boy

To My Dear And Darling Ezra-Boy,

Please. Get. Out.

Mommy loves you very much and has *enjoyed* the time we've spent together.

((Well, not all the time we've spent together...but a lot of it.))

I can forgive you for the 6 months of intense nausea and inability to eat, for the late night bathroom breaks, indescribably horrendous heartburn, the mood swings, the low back pain, the even-poorer-than-usual-balance and coordination, the limited wardrobe options, the stretch mark and swollen feet, etc and so on....

And I appreciate the fact that I've only gained 15 pounds with you,

but sweetie,

you're starting to cross the line.

Mommy is starting to resemble the Penguin from that Batman movie and it's not pretty. (Here is a picture for reference since by the time you're old enough to read this that movie will be 20 years old.)

Mommy doesn't like looking like the Penguin darling--so please, if at all possible, make your way into the world and be extremely cute so we can erase these painful memories.

Oh, and by the way, thank you for whatever you're doing for my skin and my hair--

they. look. fantastic.

((Not that anyone actually looks at my face anymore since you've so greatly misshapen my mid-section, but thanks for trying anyways.))

All my love and arms waiting to hold you,

Mama