There’s nothing like it.
I felt the first unmistakable kick at 15 weeks. I won’t forget it because it happened on my husband’s birthday. Little baby giving daddy the best present of all–a tiny hello. I felt something distinct a few weeks prior but it was so slight, the baby so small, I couldn’t be 100% sure.
Baby, at approximately 5.5 inches long and 18 weeks gestation, no longer leaves any room for doubt. This child must have inherited daddy’s strong legs and arms because I am continually shocked at the pokes and jabs this itty bitty person is capable of.
At first I felt it only while laying down or sitting still at my computer. But this week I noticed movement at the playground. This morning I felt flutters at yoga. When Giovanna awakens in the middle of the night and I search for a path back to dreamland, baby wakes up, too, and has a party in my belly. I like to think baby wants to keep me company in those wee hours, baby wants to make his or her presence known.
I’m here, mama. Mama! I’m here. Right here. And there. See?
The more I feel baby, the harder it is to think about anything else. Will baby be a soccer player or a gymnast or a dancer or a runner? Will baby ever sit still? If baby is a bouncing boy, how will I handle his hyperactivity with ease? If baby is a girl, will she be best friends with her sister?
Is baby okay? Does baby have enough room? My belly doesn’t seem big enough to house such a robust baby. During my third trimester of my first pregnancy I don’t remember Gigi kicking me in the ribs or making me uncomfortable in the way that other mothers feel. But I also don’t remember this much movement in the first half of the second trimester. So will this baby kick the shit out of me?
I’d be okay with that. Every kick brings a smile to my inner-self and every somersault infuses the moment with all-consuming gratitude. This movement in my belly reminds me of the miracle unfolding within me. These dances make me want to dance, too.