The other day I texted my husband from the opposite end of our house to “Come here! Hurry!” (I can be rather lazy when I want to be, and pregnancy isn’t helping matters.) Anyway, I heard him rush from the kitchen and down the hall. He swung open the door and looked at me wide-eyed as he asked, “Did you feel something?” No. It was something far less important and not at all exciting, but it did make us both laugh. If that story didn’t make it clear, my husband and I are on full alert for baby’s first kicks.
Almost every night after I climb into bed and get my (many) pillows into a perfect mushed position, I lie really still with one hand on my belly and wait. I have yet to feel a definitive kick. Some mamas say it’s more like a flutter or tiny bubbles popping. I’m guessing that’s the problem—I’m not entirely sure what I’m waiting for, but I assumed I’d know it when I felt it.
The thing is, when it’s late and you’re trying so hard to feel something … anything, it’s easy for your mind to play tricks on you. The other night I thought I felt my wee one move. It was like a soft flick of someone’s finger, the gentlest little tap below my belly button. But it happened so fast that I’m not sure. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe it was my digestive system at work per usual. Who knows?
What I do know is that even though I haven’t FELT my baby move, I have HEARD him/her. At our most recent OB appointment, my doctor was pressing the Doppler wand into my midsection and I was listening to the sweet whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of that tiny heart beating when all of sudden we heard a brief crash of static, like we were in between radio stations. It was only for a second or two, but my OB smiled and said that was a kick! I couldn’t believe it—what a happy surprise! It’s nice to know that those kicks and flips are happening even if I can’t feel them with any level of certainty just yet.
Week 18: Was that what I think it was?
The other day I texted my husband from the opposite end of our house to “Come here! Hurry!” (I can be rather lazy when I want to be, and pregnancy isn’t helping matters.) Anyway, I heard him rush from the kitchen and down the hall. He swung open the door and looked at me wide-eyed...