Friday, October 22, 2010
By now I have reached the point in my pregnancy when the Dr. wants me to do regular kick counts. What's a "kick count" you ask? In a nutshell I'm to pick an hour of the day when the baby tends to be the most active (so mornings are out for us) and keep track of all of the baby's kicks and movements until I reach 10 in 1 hour.
I will freely admit that I am not being very diligent about this. The Progeny and I have made our own arrangement: he gives me a boot first thing in the morning to assure me that he's okay, I let him do his own thing for a few hours, then he lets me know that he's okay by moving at least once an hour after that. So far, it's worked out okay.
Admittedly I'm still very cautious and superstitious about this pregnancy. I know that I have had it fairly easy during the pregnancy itself and I am grateful. I guess when your only other pregnancy ends in a loss, you become conditioned to expect the worst. There are too many other women out there who have experienced more loss than I have, even so, I know they understand how I feel. For me, every movement is precious.
Maybe because this is my first pregnancy (that has reached the point where I can feel movement), but I will never get tired of feeling my baby move around. And that got me to wondering: Is movement always special for a mother?
Hubby's grandmother gave birth (and was pregnant) 17 times (there is some rumour amongst the family that she was actually pregnant 19 times). So I have to wonder, by which child does the movement stop being special - if at all? Does there come a time when she was just "oh boy, here we go again"? Or do you think that even with child #17 she would put her hand on her belly and be in awe of the life inside of her? With 16 other kids did she even have the time? And why can she be so fertile?