I spotted just a little bit this morning (like “little” little; like if you picked your nose too hard little), but I caught myself saying things to my fetus I’ll probably say once s/he’s outside the womb:
Are you okay?
Don’t scare me like that.
Stop that, it’s not funny!
I hope I’ll be saying that for another 80 years (I figure by the time I’m 110 I can stop being quite so mother-y).
In the meantime, hang in there kiddo, think calm, sticky thoughts!