Getting bigger and feeling awesome (22 weeks)

A couple weeks ago I started feeling the baby move, an experience countless baby books and websites described as "magical" and "wondrous" or, if they didn't use those words, similar ones. That's not exactly how it went for me, even though it is cool. I'd say, for me, it was more like finally understanding that the feelings I was feeling weren't gas or other digestive functions, but were, instead, the little one messing around in there. Me saying to J, "I think I can maybe feel the baby move," and him saying, "Really?" and me saying, "Well...maybe, yeah, maybe," and eventually becoming more confident.

It still seems to be too early for me to feel that much of significance. There's no massive undertakings going on, no huge kicks or punches or anything, more like tiny twitches and gentle tappings, a gentle reminder that someone is along for the ride.

This is nice, because I've been feeling pretty amazing since I got over the first trimester general nausea and extreme, coma-inducing fatigue. I've been feeling totally not pregnant, except for the growing belly and occasional swollen ankles (which I cried about once, just so you know, that's how much I hate the way swollen ankles look).

I was telling J how I didn't "feel pregnant at all," the other day, in fact, and he was like, "Oh my God, look at you, you look so pregnant, I wish you realized how pregnant you look" which, by the way, he didn't mean in an insensitive way and I didn't mind at all.

Anyway, these little movements, although they're still rather infrequent and unpredictable, get me thinking in pregnancy mode again. Like, oh yes, THAT'S why I've got to buy new clothes.

They also allow me to attempt communication with my baby, like yesterday when I was very tired and very hungry after a long road trip this weekend, and was on the train home from work eating Cheez-Its, because, hey, that's what I had in my bag, while feeling the consistent, miniature thump of this little tiny girl, and I tried to tell her, through mother-child brain waves or whatever, that "I know Cheez-Its aren't giving you that many nutrients, but I really need them right now, ok?"

I also like to think about what she's doing when she's not moving around. No doubt the answer is that she's sleeping, or, I just can't feel her all the time yet, but I prefer to think she's being productive (after all, she's got all this time on her hands) and that maybe she's got a little desk lamp on and is working tirelessly on her first novel.

And so, the unreasonable expectations begin.