Last night after dinner, Mike and I were sitting on our couch watching LOST, Mike's hand placed over my swelling belly. For weeks now I have grabbed Mike's hand to feel the baby move, only for the babe to settle back into inactivity after a single round-house kick ("Take that, mom! Wham!"). Mike would place hand over belly button, feeling, waiting. And nothing. I'm not sure what regimen that kid is on, but he flutters constantly and then gives me a swift, fetus-sized Karate Kid "crane kick." He focuses all of his energy on that single forceful movement and then lapses back into meditation and repose. Yoga? Yota? Last night, however, Mike finally felt the baby kick, tiny foot to body-sized hand. It was final, astonishing proof that my swelling body is hiding a growing son, a wriggling, fluttering, baby boy. No Rorschach ink-blot test that was the ultrasound ("Do you see his face there?" "Uh...." "ope...therewenthislegs!!!"), no beating moniter suggesting a heart within, but a physical connection, son to father, through a thin boundary of skin.
22 hours ago
4 comments:
Aww, what a beautiful reflection:) You really should write a book. Good news about Mike's karate skills being passed on to the youngin' ;)
Wonderful! Hopefully this will mark the beginning of a lifelong father-son wrestling match. For my boys, they have a different connection with Joseph than they do with me, that male connection, where they can throw eachother on the ground and find great pleasure in jumping on top of dad and putting each other in headlocks...you know, that kind of thing.
Congrats! I didn't know you were expecting! And just you wait til he is big enough and you can actually identify body parts just by looking at your belly. It will look awesome! Miss you!
Just wait until you're getting towards the end. You and your husband be amazed at the acrobats that kid will pull. And the shapes he makes out of your tummy!
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