So, I'm supposed to be counting the baby movements and keeping track of this stuff. Yeah, I kind of am. It's hard. DJ's "high movement" times are so random. Sometimes it's first thing in the morning. Sometimes it's super late at night, as soon as I jump into bed. Sometimes it's just before lunch time. Mostly it's just whenever.
Lately I've been getting some crazy early morning movements. It's been nice enough so that we open the windows at night. And then noisy enough with the birds that I have to get up at 5 am (the sun isn't even up yet, people! sheesh!) to shut the windows again. I'd say at least two or three times, it wasn't just the noise of the birds that woke me. As I lay there thinking about trying to sleep through the cacophony, DJ insisted that I get up and cut that racket out. There was some serious poking that felt definitively like a fist in my side. He was NOT having it. Once the noise was gone and I was back in bed, I got a few wriggles and then some light dancing. I've learned to sleep right through that kind of activity if it's early enough. Sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do.
When I do remember to count, the counting goes quickly. The happy nurse who explained the movement count to us told us that 10 movements in 2 hours is perfectly normal. Wow, my fetus has ADD. Ten movements in ten minutes is pretty common, though I usually loose track around five or six. Since those usually occur in the first 2 minutes of counting (which I start whenever I feel a flurry that seems likes it's going to last a bit), I figure I'm getting a good estimate. The insistent fist banging on the uterus to let me know that the racket outside will not be tolerated would probably get me a good fifteen movements in a minute.
This morning he was particularly frisky. I slept in a bit because me and my GI tract were having a bit of a fight, and it was winning. I hate having to put down a good coupe d'etat but sometimes it must be done. I needed some recovery time because the revolt had persisted longer than I'd anticipated. Apparently, DJ was either feeling cramped or extra rested. It seemed pretty happy though, as he started to dance at me. I got a good 15 pokes in at least two spots on opposite sides of the belly before I lost track. It felt as if he were pumping his fists to the left and right independently. That seems like a lot of coordination for an infant. I would think that a foot and a fist would feel like they are different sizes.
Later on in the morning, I got to experience that precisely. I was sitting happily at the computer when I felt a strong poke that stayed poking out long enough for me to look down and see a long protrusion from my belly. Now that was a foot. Long and thin, but not long enough to be an arm, it just sat there. Funny, it wasn't uncomfortable, though it was a little weird looking. I'm not sure why my night gown was pulled up high enough for me to actually see skin, perhaps I pulled it up to see the foot a little closer. That was even weirder looking. But it was still kind of neat. So I started talking to the foot.
"What is that? Are you poking a foot at me?! What are you doing?"
Conversations with DJ often sound a lot like that, when I have the time or inclination to talk to the poking. I rubbed the bottom of the foot, pressing lightly on it as if I were tickling it and it slid away. That looked really crazy. And it tickled as well, at which point I started giggling. He kept that foot against me for a little longer before doing something that repositioned the feet.
Ok, so it looked a little like he was trying to escape there for a minute. And with the strength of some of the blows I've gotten lately, I wouldn't doubt that he may have a plan to that effect. If I'm laying down, he'll hit me hard enough that it feels like the whole belly is reverberating. It's like he's trying to create a standing wave in my tummy. Thankfully, it doesn't usually hurt, particularly if he does it on the sides, but it can sure keep a body from sleeping. The foot a the top of the belly is new though, and particularly interesting.
My good friends the crazy Crespo sisters saw me when I was in Miami. And I said to them that at some point he'd be cramped enough in there that you'd be able to see him trying to press through the skin like in those crazy 80's videos. I did a demonstration of what this might look like for them, putting my hands next to my face and pressing against imaginary skin. They told me I'm the only person they've ever known who would think of their baby that way. Yeah well, now he's doing it, at least with his feet. So there!
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