Ingrained Memories

I try to write down a little bits about Bubba here and there. Stuff I don’t want to forget, like how he loves to squat down and look at me through the crib slats. And I take a million pictures. But there are some things I know I won’t forget, they are a part of me now.

When I was pregnant the only place I ever felt Bubba kick was my upper belly. I felt the first real ones sitting at breakfast in our hotel in Copenhagen one morning during our trip to Scandinavia. I had been feeling tickles before that, and I was actually a little concerned because I hadn’t felt them much on the first few days of our trip. I was pretty sure he was just still on our home time, and I was probably sleeping when he was active. But that morning was the first bang! real kick to the ribs. I was so excited and relieved. It was a little uncomfortable, a little freaky, but amazing. A little person in there! A few weeks later you could see the movement, watch a limb move across the top of my belly. It horrified my husband.

As time went by it get uncomfortable. Some of the kicks really hurt. I could feel my muscles stretching. It would wake me up at night. And I wondered what the heck he was doing in there. Bang, bang, bang. And only in that one spot. I kept reading that you could feel the baby’s limbs through your belly and figure out his position, but I never could. I asked the doctor about it and he said Bubba was head down. Well that made sense – it wasn’t a little foot kicking me, it was his whole bottom, his freak-dancing bottom, moving to his own beat.

I remember holding Bubba in the hospital and feeling like I knew him. His movements felt so natural. I realized he was moving just like he had on the inside. Lying in my arms, pumping his legs, I could still feel him inside. And I could picture him head-down, legs curled, butt going up and down and across my belly.

And he still loves to kick! Now, while learning to walk he kicks everything he encounters. He kicks while fighting sleep. And he has always loved to kick when he’s excited. He lies there beaming, stomping his heels, and the rhythm is just like when he was inside me left...right..left..right.leftrightleftright. And I can still feel it inside.

With time I may forget how he likes to kick things around the house. But I will never forget how he felt inside me. His movements are somehow a part of my muscle memory now. My body remembers.