Dear Baby Monster:
I know you and I have only been acquainted for like 3 days but this whole "helping you develop into a being that can sustain life outside my body" thing would be A LOT easier if you'd quit giving me heartburn.
I thought I was having heartburn for the last 2 weeks because I'd severely increased my garlic intake but I'm starting to believe it's you that's making me breathe fire. It's going to be a long 35 weeks if I'm constantly trying to rip my esophagus out through my mouth.
But on the flip side, you're not making me toss my cookies so maybe I should just accept the heartburn! Because the letter you're going to get if I start yarfing is going to be way more severe. And I wanted to save our love/hate relationship for when you're a teenager, running wild in the streets.
Your Grandpa (the one that looks like the Pringles man) has an ample supply of Tums in his desk drawer. And your Dad said he'd go buy me some fruity Tums for home tonight. He likes the Spearmint ones. Gross, I know. Try not to hold it against him.
Anyway, there are ways I can combat the heartburn so...I guess don't worry about it. Your neural tube is just developing this week so you probably can't worry yet anyway. Just kick back in your cushy water bed.
Uncle Dan gave me some Goobers so if you like 'em, maybe you can ease up.
Love your guts (even if you don't have any yet),