kicks and dreams

On Saturday night, I had a terrible dream that I'd given birth to this baby, but I couldn't remember anything about it. In the dream, I'd accepted painkillers for the labor and for some reason, these painkillers wiped my memory clean of the birth or any of the aftermath. I was at home, it was 24 hours later, the baby was still at the hospital, and everyone refused to take me to go see her. In the midst of my begging to see my baby, Josh told me that he'd named her himself and already signed the birth certificate. I remember crying because he'd named her Sophia, and while I thought it was a perfectly lovely name, it wasn't what I had chosen for a girl!

But the worst was this horrific feeling in my stomach, because I needed to see my baby. I wanted to try to breastfeed, I wanted to hold her, and no one seemed to be taking me seriously. It was awful. I woke up Sunday morning, and spent most of the morning with a stomachache, because it felt so real.

We went out to breakfast to have some bagel sandwiches, and as I sat down to eat, I felt it, clear as day.

Kick... kick... kick...

Truthfully, it was more like a tap... tap... tap... but it wasn't gas, it wasn't ligaments, it wasn't anything except this baby kicking away. I felt it a couple more times that day, usually only once or twice, and today I've felt intermittent moments of pressure with a slight tap. I'm assuming that is the baby rolling or swimming, or whatever it does in there. It is lovely, and I'm anxious for it to move more. During a lunch meeting this afternoon, I found myself zoning out and focusing on my abdomen in the hopes that I might feel more of those sweet movements. I can hardly believe that it is only going to get stronger from here on out.

Up until now, I've been telling people that time is flying by, and that I am in no hurry for December to get here. The list of items to purchase and rooms to organize is overwhelming, and although I know that our lives will change this winter, I need more time to actually believe it. On Sunday morning, though, I realized that at the same time, I cannot wait for this baby to get here. I cannot wait to hold him or her in my arms!

I'm searching for a balance now, between trying to enjoy every moment of this pregnancy, and looking anxiously and happily toward the future. The truth is that time IS flying by, and I can hardly believe that August is right around the corner. We are taking a babymoon next month, and once we get back, the real job of preparing for this little one will start. I can't wait!