Other than getting bigger and bigger by the day, I really haven't been feeling all that different in my second trimester. Sure, I get tired and hot more easily, and simple tasks like walking up stairs are getting more difficult, but I haven't felt sick (thank God) or out of sorts like I expected my pregnant self would feel.
What I am feeling lately, however, is impatient. I'm impatient because I only feel my little Bellybean move a few times a day, and poor Brent hasn't felt his son move at all yet.
The highlight of my day is feeling the little guy move, which I've been able to do for about three weeks now. It just feels like a soft poke - none of these bubbles or butterflies or anything like I've read it's supposed to feel like. It's just a tiny, soft poke coming from inside my body letting me know he's there.
And every time I feel that soft poke, I smile. I'll be in a meeting, at my desk at work, sitting on the train, or watching TV, feel that poke, and smile while putting my hand on my belly so I can feel it both from the inside and out.
Lately, our little Bellybean has been especially active right around 10:30 p.m. when his dad and I are winding down in front of the TV. And the routine has been for me to feel a few little pokes in a row, and then scoot over to Brent so I can grab his hand and put it on my belly. The pokes, of course, immediately cease the second his hand is resting on my stomach. Little stinker wants to keep his daddy in suspense.
For some reason it's important to me that Brent be able to feel the little guy. I think it's because Brent has told me that from a man's perspective, having a baby doesn't seem real until he's able to hold the baby in his arms and marvel at the fact that it's his.
Me, I get to host our son in my own body until he's ready to take his first breath. I get to take him with me wherever I go. Daddy wants to experience you too, baby. Don't make him wait too much longer!
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