Good morrow.
First off, do you understand the awkward position you're putting me in? William is writing on my behalf. I speak, he writes. I will learn soon enough, I will get better at writing but I can not bare having a horridly amateur written letter travel all the way to France to my dearest friend. You deserve the best there is and that is my husband's rather stunning handwriting.
(Ps. It's William, how are you Hector? She doesn't know I wrote this part.)
William and I are expecting, that is how I bribed him into hand writing my letter for me while I sat back and simply talked. The baby could be here anytime now, perhaps a day? A week? Who knows it's nine months already... with Christian you remember how he came early. I still can not fathom that I will go through with this again? I
