At first I thought I was hungry. I had returned home from a morning run, showered, and just sat down with a cold bottle of water when I felt it. I grabbed a bite to eat and sipped more water and still, the rumbles continued. It was a soft and subtle feeling at first, but then it became stronger, more insistent. After a few moments I realized what it was. . .
The body of my little 4 1/2 inch babe was knocking on my abdomen letting me know that he/she’s here. I took a moment and closed my eyes and vowed to remember it. To remember the slight touches of my little one that is nestled deep in my womb and growing stronger everyday. To remember the first intimate touches that only we share.
I picked up my phone and sent Chad a text. . . it feels like there is a swarm of bees in my belly. It did and suddenly it hit me. . this is for real.
I assumed that with the third child the little things might become less exciting. Less worth the celebration. Less noteworthy. However, I’ve found the opposite to be true. I don’t want to miss a thing. I want to feel the flutters, the kicks, and the changes. I want to be present in a way that with my previous pregnancies I was not. In my previous pregnancies I only wanted the end result. . . this time, I long to enjoy the experience and see the beauty of it.
You know those families who stop at every rest stop on the way to their vacation destination? The families that pull over when they see an interesting small town to explore and pay no attention to the time? The families who seem to get that the journey is just as important as the destination? That’s my goal for this pregnancy. I want to celebrate these moments and writing about them helps. Writing holds me accountable.
Dude, there is a baby in my belly and he/she is dancing around even as I write this–that is nothing short of a miracle!
I don’t know if we will have a boy or a girl. Just like we did with the other two, we will wait until that final breathless push to hear the words of my doctor announce, “It’s a ____.” I love that moment. What I know now, though, that I didn’t know then is that the moments go by so quickly and before I know it that slippery little baby becomes a little person with dreams, talents, fears, smiles, and struggles all their own. What I didn’t know then that I know now is that each new stage is just as precious as the one before.
I remember when I first felt Charlie’s flutters. I was standing in the living room of our little apartment and I stopped cold in my tracks and called my Mom. I felt the baby! I exclaimed to her. And now. . .
. . . this little guy has grabbed my heart and tenderized my soul even more than it already was. Now, his dimples send my heart into it’s own kind of flutter that draw tears to my eye. Those little flutters transformed into something more than I could have ever imagined.
And Chanelle. . . I remember the way I used to put my hands on my stomach as I sat through my classes in grad school. Willing, waiting, and hoping. I look at her now and I am amazed that those little flutters turned into this little ball of sunshine that rocked my world. . .
Oh, she keeps me on my toes. Even now I get flutters in my soul as I wonder how in the heck I’m going to keep up with her. Just the other day as I was cleaning in the bedrooms, I realized that I hadn’t heard a peep out of her for awhile (a rarity). I walked into the living room to find this scene. . .
Maybe I’m just hormonal and overly emotional, but I am overwhelmed tonight as I realize that this little person will slide into our family and transform our lives in a way we could never guess today. That in a few short months we will become something different than we are today. That, once again, we will be changed by this life that has yet to take its first breath. It is exciting and scary and miraculous and these flutters just made it all the more real. But even though I can’t wait to meet this new little person, tonight I am choosing to stop for a moment, rest, and take in the scenery of the little town I call Flutters.