Yesterday in a completely relaxed moment during my massage appointment, I felt the baby move. I just laid there, unable to believe that I finally FELT the baby MOVE!
My RMT noticed my complete silence, I had been chatting her ear off for the last 20 minutes... it took me a few seconds to convey to her what had happened.
It was not a twinge, a pull, or a flutter. It felt like how submerging something in water feels. Sploosh! So weird.
When I got home and told Jason, I felt a little guilty. This is something that only I am going to experience, how can my description of the feeling compare to the actual feeling? Oddly enough, I feel like I am the luckier one in this undertaking.
I know that only I am going to feel the heaviness of this baby growing inside me, the pain in my hips and back, the constant pressure on my bladder. The heartburn, the fatique, the breathlessness... all those things are reserved for me and only me.
But I still feel like we women are blessed.
Later that night, we laid in bed and Jason had his hand on my belly. I figured out that I need to relax completely to discern the feeling of the baby moving from the other movements of my body. After a few minutes, we both felt the baby hit Jason's palm. Very cool.
I hope I still feel so blessed when this baby is kicking me full force in the rib cage, or performing jumping jacks on my bladder. When I'm nearly 4ft around and still only 5ft tall, I hope I still feel good enough to walk the dog, swim and do yoga. I hope the elastic band that I've threaded through the buttonhole and around the button of my jeans doesn't snap today. I hope that I don't accidentally pee myself in the middle of teaching my yoga class next week, or expel gas loudly at the lunchroom table, or anywhere that Bella will not be there to blame.
With each day I find that there are more and more "what if's" and "I hope's" and "maybe's" in pregnancy. I've never been so full of questions and uncertainty in my life, but somehow it feels good.