Alien Encounter

Everyone always told me how different their boys and girls were while they were carrying them. By my twenty-third week of pregnancy I would have told you this one started out differently too. I felt Jake for the first time at 14 weeks, and felt him regularly after that. This one I felt at 12 weeks (because she was sitting right on my overly-sensitive bladder) but stopped feeling her when my uterus rose up a bit. I started feeling her again around 16 weeks, but only now and then.

By twenty-three weeks she made herself known ALL THE TIME. She was not at all like Jake. Jake was gentle with mommy. He'd bounce and bump and rub and pat and wiggle. This one punched and stabbed and kicked and walloped! My belly button became a point of interest, and a great punching bag. My hubby often joked that she was going to hit it just right someday and make my innie an outie. My bladder made a great trampoline, especially when it was full and we were in a car. How nice I was to supply her with toys in there! On top of everything else, I had developed an “irritable uterus” which meant I enjoyed hard contractions a minimum of four times an hour. At first I would go check in with my doctor (that's what the books tell you to do if this happens) but later I was instructed not to bother the doctor with my contractions "unless part of the baby was hanging out." Needless to day, there were days I went to the ladies room just to check myself for extra feet.

The dog and cat still fought over who got to sit on mommy's lap, but I think both were contemplating the possibility of demonic possession. One night the cat was asleep on my lap when the baby woke up and decided it was play time. This warm lump on top of her was neat! If she punched it just right...
Yes, I think I had the best view from the outside. Without warning, the baby clobbered the cat's tender underbelly. Wellington's round, green eyes opened wide with shock and he jumped up to find the mouse that had run beneath him. He inspected and sniffed the entire area of my belly for almost a minute before deciding he'd been mistaken, and settling back down to complete his nap.
Whump!
Wellington shot from my lap as if he's been... well... kicked. He sped to a hideout under the coffee table, eying me with distrust as my hubby and I sat there laughing until tears came to our eyes.

The dog had encountered the bumping tummy also. The first time or two she sat upright and sniffed my belly thoroughly. After deciding there was no immediate danger, and no goblins hatching out of my belly button, she decided she didn't mind getting whacked every now and then, provided I continue to allow her to sit on me. She had also noticed that lap real estate had become progressively more limited. The good news for her (unlike the 15 lb cat) was that there was almost always room for a 6 lb Chihuahua, even one wearing a pink sweater and sparkly purple collar.

Since the dog had decided the tummy is not dangerous, the cat eventually gained enough trust to vie for the limited lap space, often dislodging the canine in his efforts to become comfortable. Of course it was mommy's job to make sure there was room for everyone on the quickly shrinking lap.

As the baby grew stronger, my clothes grew progressively more interesting. Shirts with stripes turned into shirts with moving waves. Loose items fluttered when under attack from the entity within, and solids gathered quickly moving shadows before they fell back in place. My belly button was permanently bruised, and my bladder had become a popular dance floor for tiny feet.

I'll never forget the day I was sitting at work entering information into an order on the computer. I felt the giant kick just as the keyboard tray and keyboard that had been resting just against my growing belly, disappeared from under my hands and rolled back under the desk.

Of course this behavior was not something that just happened in the daylight hours. Talk about things that go thump in the night! There must be some kind of rule that playtime starts when mommy is just… drifting… off. Whack! If the baby could communicate, I’m sure she’d be saying, “Are you asleep yet? Gotta pee?” And all ideas of sleep that I had just moments before are put on hold until after the first of many potty breaks for the night.

Can you tell what a child's personality will be like before they're born? I knew if this was any indication of things to come, my daughter would have no trouble trouncing her brother by the time she was two. Mommy's job will be protecting the tiny ten-year-old from the terrible-two-tantrums. My husband suggested we get her involved with martial arts very early, so she can learn patience and control to go with that cat-launching kick. Perhaps she'll have an affinity for soccer, or become the first female NFL kicker. Only time will tell.