Pin It I'm sitting here trying to watch The Bachelor (what is wrong with me that I still watch this show?) and simultaneously attempting to compose an essay on the New Testament canon-- which isn't a great combination to begin with--when all of a sudden the belly starts dancing.
Forget the canon and Brad Wommack...I can't ignore the belly when it begins its weird internal tango...immediately, the shirt comes up so I can see the skin rippling and popping in time to a music that I can't hear. It never gets old.
It began a couple of months ago as faint "popcorn" bursts deep within. Now, as muscles strengthen and bones continue to form, it's more like a persistent little alien is working on making his presence very known. Although a little disconcerting, this is one of my favorite things about pregnancy--right up there with seeing the baby on ultrasound and hearing the heartbeat.
Truitt started making his presence known in church service Sunday morning, and for a while I contented myself with just resting a hand lightly on my stomach and pretending to pay attention. Lawson was sitting on Duane's lap next to me, pretending he was still little enough to take a nap in church. I took his hand and placed in under mine, holding it there for the few seconds it took Truitt to kick strongly.
He chortled. There's no other word for it. He gasped, snatched his hand away, and chortled with delight.