For about a month, I've quite envied Emeline. As the baby squirms and wriggles around, she's been able to feel every movement and flutter, like a message from deep space. To me, this little guy (our unnamed baby) is still a fairly abstract notion. I know he's coming soon ... but I can't see him, hear him, or feel him. Even so, I already have so much planned for the little guy (President of the United States of America).
I talk to Emeline's stomach every night, and tell him who's the boss (me). But there was still something missing until yesterday. Those little movements -- the squirming, and fidgeting, and wriggling: today I can feel them.
I laid my hand on Emeline's belly and waited: a little bump (was that gas?), then nothing, then maybe Emeline's pulse, faint through her stomach, and then my baby punched me in the hand! Punch! It's a magical moment really. Beautiful. Something becomes real and tangible to the simple-minded like me when it can be felt, even through skin and muscle and tiny spaces and cells and amniotic fluid. It was like a twang in my reality. He's not abstract anymore. He punches me. He's punched and kicked me several times today.
I'm willing to excuse the aggression (at the moment).
1 comment:
Awwwww. :)
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