You know, to be honest with you, this whole pregnancy hasn’t really felt real up until this past Sunday. I’ve been growing - attributing it to the cheeseburgers and caramel pecan sundaes that I’ve been indulging in - my pants have not been fitting without a rubber band – also attributed to the cheeseburgers and caramel pecan sundaes - my shirts have been stretching and I’m beginning to look more and more like the small basketball in my stomach is starting to expand into a Zepplin. I’m the heaviest I’ve been in my entire life, weighing in at a whopping 157lbs this week, up 22 from my initial 135lbs. It’s absolutely petrifying. And now, 24 weeks in, I feel as though I finally have something to show for it, a protruding belly and now, an adorable memory that my engineering husband has engrained in my brain that I am sure not to forget.
Sunday afternoon, after a long day of day drinking (for Scott) and Cubbies Spring Training in the sun (thank goodness for frozen lemonade), we lay on the couch, snuggling, despite the awful scent of residual hops on my husband’s breath. And then, there it was…not only did I feel the young Chuck Norris kick, but I saw it. For the first time, I felt implanted in the movie Alien, just waiting for this creepy little head to pop out of my belly, screetching at the top of their lungs. No such thing happened, but I saw it again and said to Scott, “look, there it is” ever so gently as to not disturb their delicate ballet practice. Then, he saw it and stated, “How did you do that?” Then there was a pause. A long pause. Now, granted, my husband had a few drinks, BUT, with his engineering brain, I would hope he’d be able to put two and two together or at least remember what was going on in my belly. I said “really? You think that I’d be able to telepathically move my child’s foot and protrude it through my belly?” “Well, I don’t know.” I simply looked at him, smiled and chuckled.
My sweet husband.