April 20, 2005

Dear Mr. Bush,

Last night we thought that by this time today we'd have a baby. Janice was having contractions and shooting pains up her back. We were waiting, excitedly and nervously, for the contractions to become organized, to achieve some sort of pattern, and so we stayed up most of the night wondering what the future would hold. But instead, the contractions died down into just some minor cramping and we spent the day today hoping that they would return. They will soon, Mr. Bush, that much is certain, but today isn't their day.



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