no one can adequately prepare you for the kicking.
(sorry if you're bored by these. this is a pregnancy post, though not a complaining one, if that helps. i just know myself well enough to know that if i don't write it here, i won't write it anywhere.)
i thought they lied at first when they called it a flutter, or butterfly kisses, or whatever cutesy name they dream up to try to describe the strangest sensation in the whole entire world. the first time i recognized movement from Baby Girl, it did not feel like a butterfly kiss. it felt like a jab and drag. it didn't hurt--she was too small for that then--but it was no wedding song tenderness. it was serious movement.
knowing her, it was probably a fist pump. she does like to fist pump.
then there were the little tiny kicks, when i started to understand the idea of the flutter. ever-so-gentle, ever-so-imperceptible, blink-and-you'll-miss-it movements. just enough to track, just enough to notice, but not enough to sort of change your own daily activities. those were not the kind of kicks that make you stop mid-sentence, except at the wonder of it all.
she then moved on to the "you can tell she's kicking from the outside" movement. jerky, somewhat unexpected, and hilarious to watch from the outside. these are still my favorite. i have taken, now, to putting the remote on my belly. she does one of two things when she's moving my entire belly. she's either kicking hard (which is a sort of jabby motion, as you'd expect) or she's moving. i describe that as the earthquake, but only as a true Californian understand it. it's not jerky--it's rolling. it's hard to notice if you don't have an object there, but when you do, it's hilarious.
i sort of think that's awesome.
lately, though, she's been expanding her repetoire. in fact, she's probably just been expanding, because where i feel her now is EVERYWHERE. right now, for example, i've felt some strange flutters and kicks on my left hip. like seriously--that far over. i've felt it on the right as well, which can just tell me how large i am and how big she is. she is so active now (now's the time--between 24 and 32 weeks, before space becomes premium in there) that i feel her when i wake up in the middle of the night. i turn over, and maybe she does too, because there's almost always a kick or a jab to tell me she's there.
i hope this does not suggest what her nighttime schedule will be.
now, though, the kicks are becoming the kind where they stop me in my tracks at times. they're beginning to HURT, which just tells me good things about her health, so i don't mind. she's kicked me in the spine. i'm not lying. she has yet to reach my ribs, but i'm sure that will be good fun times as well. and sometimes, when she moves, it's the strangest sensation. the only way i can try to describe it is as axis-turning--as if she's completely turning over...and taking everything with her.
bizarre. i don't think you can just continue through your sentence when that happens. imagine your insides flip-flopping and try to not be like "whaaa?." it's impossible.
now, i feel like she has the whole repertoire down: the hiccupy movements, the jabby kicks, the axis changing, the flutters, the drag and drop, the earthquakes. i love them all, but i wish more people could feel them. musicboy feels her at least once a day, sometimes in unexpected times and places, which i really like. sometimes he just sees her, which i also like.
but it's very strange to try to describe it. i wanted to record it, on video, and it took me two days. i couldn't get it in time. she would erupt and then be done, just as i would pull out the video camera. but i finally got it.
i don't think it really records it adequately, but it's the best i can do. still, it falls so far short.
i feel like that's true of most things about this whole journey. it's awfully hard to capture, but i'm doing my best.