Jack-
You have become a territorial little fellow.
I’ve noticed it recently. If I cross my arms above my belly, you punch and poke them til I uncross them. When the dog rests his chin on my tum, he gets a kick in the teeth. If I happen to lean up against my desk, you’ll beat on me like a drum til I move. You even go wild at loud sounds – when I’m playing with the band it’s nearly impossible to beat the tambourine in time, with you beating out your own rhythm in the womb. At first I thought I was just being a mom, seeing something that maybe wasn’t there – My kid is so smart, at 28 weeks gestation he can feel and respond to the world around him. Is he not, friends, advanced? Is he not a genius? Should I begin the Harvard early admission app now, or wait til the day he’s born?
Well then, kiddo, yesterday we had our normal doctor’s appointment. We’ve been through this at least six times – the midwife holds a Doppler device up to my abdomen and moves it around til she finds your heartbeat, and we listen for several minutes to get a good rate count. Yesterday you made it last ten times longer than usual, because you kept kicking the thing away. You made the midwife, Stephanie, laugh out loud while she tried to surf away from your angry pokes. It is so crazy when they develop a personality in utero, she said. I’ve seen babies like this, my daughter was like this, and it usually means that you aren’t gonna have a cuddly baby. He likes his space, he sure does.
Not a cuddly baby? We’ll see about that, kid. You WILL cuddle your mama, even if it makes you scream.
So, after the appointment, as we’re driving to work, I am really tired. I am too tired. I am so tired that when the big black minivan in front of me comes to a stop in the middle of the highway, allowing some guy in front of him to take a left turn into Hurdle Mills Grain and Feed – well, I’m taking an extra long sleepy blink and don’t see him in time. Screeeeech go my tires, and then Thunk. I’ve gotten in a fender bender. I’ve gotten US into a fender bender.
One citation and one insurance exchange later (all very civil, dear, and never underestimate the power of being pregnant to make people kinder to you than they perhaps would like to be), we’re back in our barely dented car and heading to work. You have gotten your first shot of adrenaline, and I feel like I have a womb full of octopus all the way there. It’s very heartening, actually, because it lets me know that you are feeling ok. I know we weren’t going very fast, I know your little body is perfectly safe. What I don’t know is whether my placenta has separated from the uterine wall, which can happen in minor crashes at very low rates of speed. I presume that because there is no pain, no bleeding, no symptom, that we’re probably fine.
Oh dear. The internet search at work does little to calm me, as it specifically says that placental abruption can occur and the mother can feel nothing. There are horrifying stories of unsuspecting mothers who feel just fine and then deliver a stillborn. Oh my God. I call the midwives, and then we’re back in the car heading back to the hospital. This is the second 1.5 hour drive I’ve had to make from work to the hospital, worried about you. I hope it’s the last, until the big day you arrive.
The thing is, the next couple of hours are a really neat bonding experience for us, Jack. I know the whole no-symptom-does-not-mean-no-problem thing, but still I can’t help thinking everything is ok with us, because it feels ok – so driving to the hospital is just a precaution, and it doesn’t freak me out too much. Heading into labor and delivery, I get to see all the full term women walking, walking, walking the halls, hoping to speed up their labor. I think about the fast approaching day when I’ll come in here a pregnant lady and come out of here a mom. We get taken to an empty bed and I get stripped off and into a gown, then lay on the bed in the dim, quiet room. You, predictably, are fiercely disapproving of the tightly belted-on fetal monitors, which are going to tell us if I’m having contractions and if your heart is beating normally. I lay in the room alone with you for two hours, listening to your heart beat 150 times a minute, and watching you have what can only be described as a tempter tantrum in utero. This is my dance space, you’re saying, and this is your dance space, and get these freaking things out of my dance space. Looking at my belly was like looking at a bag full of angry cats.
I have to tell you something, kid – this is all MY dance space, which you have invaded, uninvited I might add. Dad and I are gonna love you regardless and one day we’re going to be so glad you came when you did. But I gotta say right now, you are being awfully bossy for a three pound wrinkly little monkey who lives inside of somebody else and should be GRATEFUL for his existence. Even if the person he lives in is probably too clumsy to be trusted with him.
Two quiet hours told us for sure what I already knew – that we are fine, placenta and all. It was a very soothing afternoon for me, little baby. I spent it with my favorite guy, watching you move and assert yourself. Snoozing to the lullaby of your heartbeat. Just me and you, kid, in a quiet room, dreaming of the day when we meet at last.
Love,
Mama
how scary! i\’m glad to know that everyone is a-okay. i think you may have jinxed yourself with that previous entry about the speeding tickets, gilly. it is incredibly crazy how their little personalities shine through at such a young age. my girls haven\’t changed a bit from the time i conceived them until the present. it sounds like this little guy is a mover and a shaker.
so happy that things are ok…you has me scared for a bit…what i wouldn\’t do to hear my babies heartbeat…i haven\’t heard it yet…soon i hope…
*~* :o) if you do not have a smile today… :o) I will give you one of mine… :o) *~*
I know super jane – and I wasn\’t even speeding! For once. Just, you know, sleeping behind the wheel. Always a good idea.
Skrumshz, I hope you get to hear it soon. It\’s very cool.
Start baby proofing the house now. Sounds like he is going to be into things. LOL. I remember Max kicking at things while in utero too. Funny since he is still kind of like that, I have to watch him at the playground he wants to take out the kid that wrongs him. Completely unlike his older brother who is more likely to come running to me. I am glad all is well, and glad you checked it out. I probably wouldn\’t have, not that it is a good thing. Sometimes my nonchalance comes back to bite me. Enjoyed the Mildred and Spider post too.