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Kicks and Giggles

When all is calm and I finally get a moment to relax it starts. Just a tiny flick at first. Then a little more until it starts coming in waves.

The thumps.
The bumps.
The ebbs and flows.

The movements from within that I just cannot get enough of.

Fists and feet flailing around in a symphony of motion. They tell me so much—like where the baby is sitting. How he is laying. Which end is up. Each undulation tells me things are alright. Every kick is a little bit of reassurance—a little voice of sorts that says, “I’m okay in here.”

To lay on the couch or in bed and watch my stomach move and shake—sometimes so rapidly across the entire surface that it is shocking—is one of my favorite parts of being pregnant. It is something that intimate and marvelous about the gestational process that I can share with my husband and son. The way the eyes of my four year old light up when his hand is on my belly and he feels his little brother move is priceless.

I think of those moments every time that baby kicks me in the bladder. They are totally worth it.

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