All Fired Up

Have you ever been punched in the gut? I have. I was maybe 11 years old when a boy in my class punched me right in the stomach for mouthing off to him during art class. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt.

These days, my daughter is the one flailing her limbs at my abdomen, but the funny thing is that she's doing so from 20,000 leagues under my lunch.

For weeks, I couldn't wait to feel my baby kicking and moving. The doctor told me at my last appointment that I should be able to feel her any time soon, and I received an email at 18 weeks from "Similac Smart Moms" titled "Here come the kicks." You can imagine my dismay when I didn't seem to be feeling anything.

I can't pinpoint the exact day, but all of a sudden, baby girl started raving. I went from feeling nothing more than indigestion to very purposeful churning sensations. These first motions, called "quickening," are known to some cultures as the true beginning of life.

Whenever I feel her kicking, I think to myself, "Well, hello to you too." When I went for my last ultrasound, she appeared to be fast asleep when her image first showed up on the screen. After a little prodding, she began rustling around. By the time the ultrasound tech was finished looking at her heart, she was in a full sprint. Her little legs were moving like propellers, but the poor thing had nowhere to go but face first into my uterus. I was relieved to see that she's a healthy, vivacious baby. Her activity is both charming and comforting.

At times, however, the kicks are sharp, painful and inconvenient. From what I've read and experienced, babies in utero are more likely to be still during the day when mom is moving around a lot, creating a rocking motion. When mom rests, baby wakes up. Unfortunately, I'm quite stationary during class every day. While I take notes, she takes the opportunity to dance.

She also goes crazy whenever I do. If I have an adrenaline rush, get nervous or excited, baby girl empathizes with me. When a nasty storm passed by my home very early this morning and repeatedly smashed tree limbs into my window, I woke up alarmed and a little scared. My daughter must have decided it was breakfast time right then even though I still had a few hours of sleep to go.

Baby girl is kicking as I type right now, and I can't help but smile every time I glance down at my belly- even if she is jumping on my bladder like a 5-year-old in a moonbounce at the state fair.