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The diary of an unborn child

Thank you for taking the time to read this diary of an unborn baby, this is not by any means completely truthful; however is intended to shine a little humor during this tiring time for any parent. Although some may be fairly morose, please keep in mind that this is definitely geared toward a more ‘alternative’ lifestyle.

Week one:
My mommy has stopped bleeding, she probably knows I am here by now.

Week two:
I am a mere division of cells, but I am dividing rapidly.

Week three:
I have now buried myself into the uterus lining, I need to rest for a little while.

Week four:
I am now considered a blastocyst, I contain fifty to sixty cells now.

Week five:
They are now calling me an embryo, and the walls seem to be filling with strange fluid. I think it is time to call a plumber.

Week six:
There is a strange thumping in my chest, could it be a heart?

Week seven: Strange limbs are growing from my body, two on the bottom and two on the top.

Week eight: The limbs that grew last week, are growing strange nubs; I hear they are called fingers and toes.

Week nine:
My brain continues to grow, I should be a genius by the time I escape.

Week ten:
I am now lovingly called a fetus, I think I should get that tattooed when I escape.

Week eleven:
I have begun swallowing this strange fluid, when will that plumber get here?

Week twelve:
My arms and legs work, at last I can stretch!

Week thirteen:
I have found an amazing appendage, it is called a thumb. It tastes good too!

Week fourteen:
I was finally able to relieve my bladder pressure.

Week fifteen:
I can now taste, but why are you feeding me filth mom? I want ice cream!

Week sixteen:
I have learned to somersault, I must be a future athlete.

Week seventeen:
I am beginning to gain a few pounds, thanks for the ice cream mom!

Week eighteen:
Sleep! I need sleep!

Week nineteen:
I have now taken up kick boxing.

Week twenty:
I am half way to my escape of this place.

Week twenty one:
I can hear this ethereal voice, I wonder who it is.

Week twenty two:
There is singing above, its lovely.

Week twenty three:
hey! Stop poking me.

Week twenty four:
Boy it is getting cramped in here.

Week twenty five:
I am now exploring my surroundings.

Week twenty six:
They keep trying to take my picture, no paparazzi please.

Week twenty seven:
I have now tripled my size since first implementing my plan.

Week twenty eight:
My eyes seem to twitch as I sleep, and that becomes increasingly each day. I must rest for my escape.

Week twenty nine:
The lighting in my place seems to change frequently, I need to get an electrician... and where is that plumber?

Week thirty:
I have discovered something fuzzy upon my head, and face; what could this be?

Week thirty one:
I have become increasingly jumpy, whenever there is a loud noise.

Week thirty two:
I am gaining more weight now, this should help my survival after my escape.

Week thirty four:
I have implemented my breathing techniques.

Week thirty five:
I think I could survive outside now, but I think I will stay for a little bit longer.

Week thirty six:
I am gaining a half a pound a week, boy am I going to be set.

Week thirty seven:
Boy I need to move into a bigger place.

Week thirty eight:
I could have sworn I had more room a week ago.

Week thirty nine:
My development is complete, now to form an escape rout.

Week forty:
Ah' freedom!

The diary of an unborn child

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