She's been kicking and moving around for weeks, but for the first time I finally got her father to feel it! After weeks of, "Honey put your hand here. Feel that?"
"What about that?"
"My arm hurts."
"Ooh that was a big one."
"Like really hurts."
"That right there! Did you feel it?"
"This isn't comfortable."
"Neither is slowing watching your lady parts disappear before your very eyes."
"Oh kay I don't-"
"I won't be able to see it soon."
"What about that one?"
"Ah! You had to feel that?"
"I'm twisted in a very weird way. Maybe we should try this in a few weeks."
"No. You're going to feel it! Just wait."
"I can't feel anything but a searing pain in my shoulder now."
"Suck it up and feel for your baby!"
I just want him to enjoy the whole experience, even if it hurts.
Anyway, after my weeks of prodding and hand placing the little girl is kicking hard enough that he finally felt it! And even though he's usually very put together and calm, the smile and light in his eyes the moment he felt his daughter moving was instantaneous was so totally amazing I couldn't help but start to cry a little (to be fair, I cry at everything right now, including a moving hand in the World Series of Poker, and one time last week when I ran out of beans for my nachos).
Sitting there with his hand on my belly, and mine on his back, while we both felt our little baby moving around like she knew we were there waiting for her made me feel so amazingly grateful and joyous about this little family we've created. It's not traditional. It's not always organized or planned out. It's not how everyone else would do it. But it's ours. And it's full. And it's loving. And it makes me laugh, and cry, and smile, and feel safe, and scared, and happy, and nervous, and overwhelmed with how lucky I am. And I am. I am really lucky to be a part of this little family. Even if love is shown through kicks and arms falling asleep.
No, especially if love is shown through kicks and arms falling asleep. Because how else would you do it? I mean, really.