How’s it going in there?
We’re 19 weeks into this grand adventure and that’s the question I ask over and over all the time. Hello? I say, How are you doing in there? So far you haven’t answered me, at least not in a way I can feel yet.
Everyone tells me not to worry about that, that it’s early yet, that soon soon I’ll be feeling you lots and lots. I still search for you though. At night when I can’t sleep I hunt for you with my hand, with my heart. I wonder if every little thing might be you wiggling, waving, trying to get comfortable on the inside while I try and get comfortable out here. Sometimes that’s harder than it sounds, maybe it is for you too.
I search for you other times, too. I try and feel where your little home has reached as it moves up my belly from the inside. By this time next week you’re roof will be right in line with my belly button. When friends want to touch my belly (see everyone wants to feel you, to know you) they always reach too high yet. Down here, I say, touching where I know you’re hiding, finding the place the doctor last let us hear your heart beat. Strong and steady; I whisper encouragements to you. We can’t wait to meet you.
In just a little while we’ll be seeing a special doctor to check in on you. We will look to see how you’re growing, and if you’re good to us we’ll find out what you’re name will be. You already have a name waiting for you to claim it. After all we have been waiting an awful long time for you to join us, there was so much anticipation and there were so many prayers -I might have called you from heaven by your name long before you made it into the cells here on earth.
I think about who you will be, what it will be like to get to know you, watch you grow…hopefully I’ll be a good teacher. There’s this thing we say to moms when babies start to kick inside hard enough to see and feel on the outside. Maybe he/she’s a little soccer player. I think about that sometimes; who you’ll be. Will you be sporty like your dad? Will you want to play soccer or basketball? Or maybe you’ll be a dancer, and love to be on stage. Or maybe you’ll love art or music. Or a perfect combination of all of that.
I imagine your dad and I cheering for you -embarrassing you with our enthusiasm, our encouragement, our love- no matter what you choose to pursue. You might roll your eyes at us; as we stand and clap, grinning like fools. I might cry with pride. Maybe you’ll wish we didn’t cause a scene, that I didn’t yell out quite so loud, or take so many pictures of every little thing. But, I hope you grow to secretly love it. That one day you’ll tell your friends, your kids, how silly we were and how crazy it was -our joy over you. That’s not a bad wish really -that we show our love in loud obnoxious ways. We want you to never doubt that we love you; big and loud and unabashed.
All these dreams feel so far away right now while I search for a flutter from your tiny growing body. And I remind myself not to get so caught up in looking forward to the next phase that miss out on the miracle of the place I’m in. You’ll grow faster than I can imagine, and each step will be so fast I think before I know it I’ll wish backwards. For your life to slow down and for you to be little forever. So I bring myself back to the here and now with you. Small enough you’re keeping secrets a little longer. Small enough I can still mostly move around you, still see my feet, still put on my own shoes. It’ll be different before I know it and I want to embrace every step along the way.