Dear Wittle Brudder or Wittle Sisser,

I doughno who you are yet. Are you a boy or are you a dirl? I pwayed for you so you can play wiff me, see? Dey say I can’t play wiff you until you are borned, see? I now pway for you to be borned an now I need you to be borned so we can play. It make me happy dat you can be borned cuz I want you to be borned so I pwayed for you to be borned. I love you alweady. I want to play wiff you alweady.

But I can’t play wiff you til you are rweawy borned. I trying to tell you, see? Dis so you can know what to do to be borned. I know you are in dare because mommy is fat an you are in dare. I was where you are, see? I know what you haff to do.

You need to make my mommy da mommy of your life. I know you can do dis. If you don’t make her you mommy wike I made her my mommy den we can’t play. If you don’t decide to be borned she can’t be your mommy. You rweawy, rweawy, rweawy need to make her da mommy of your life. Only you can do dis. I can’t do it for you. Pwease make her de mommy of your life wike me did.

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