Something has changed in the past week or two. I’m finally getting in touch with the little person inside of me.
That might be in part because the kicks are more frequent and ticklish — instead of a series of pokes or jabs, it’s rapid motion fire — pow pow p-p-p-p-pow. I can feel the little munchkin squirming and moving its little limbs all of the time. And when it happens, I look down — chin to chest. My stomach is like that game Whac-A-Mole — blurp blurp blurp. Now you see me, now you don’t.
Occasionally, I can tell that the baby wants to be Superman — the fists and feet are punching out in tandem. I can feel legs on one side, fists on the other — fly, baby, flyyy!
Last weekend, at a baby shower at A.’s parents’ house in New Jersey, where we mixed and mingled and ate great food with at least 25 of A.’s relatives, A.’s aunts and cousins and cousin’s children wanted to feel the baby kick. And when the house quieted down after 11 p.m., after I had a bowl of fresh fruit, the sugar and quiet woke baby up. It was party time. A’s cousin M. felt eight kicks in a row. Her 8-year-old daughter’s face lit up when she put her small hand on my stomach and felt a kick.
At the doctor’s last week, Dr. M, who just two weeks ago said the baby was still too small for him to feel, pushed on my protruding belly and concluded with confidence that the baby was head down (thank you baby, you can stay that way if you’d like). I loved that he could tell the baby’s position. And with that, I could imagine baby folded up inside of me.
Lately, I find myself talking to baby. On Wednesday, when I got home and was rushing to get dressed for yoga, the baby squirmed and I felt the need to comfort it. I said out loud in the quiet house in a very motherly tone I didn’t even know I could conjure: “I feel you, sweetie.”
I’ve also stopped sleeping soundly. I’m half awake all night. It’s as if my body is revving up for getting no sleep (so that whole “get sleep now” notion? Yeah, right).
Sleeping lightly means vivid dreams. Last week, I dreamed A. and I had a tiny boy, who slipped out painlessly and he was thirsty (this is because I was thirsty in real life and worried about drinking enough water) and he immediately latched on to breast-feed. Oh, the beauty of dreams! I’d be happy with a girl or boy, but that other part? It would be nice if dreams really did come true.