Before we begin, let's straighten something out. I don't know why all the web sites say that your baby's first movements will feel like a quickening or a fluttering. Those are nonsense words. They might as well say it feels like butterfly kisses. We gotta do better than that and give our newly pregnant sisters something more tangible to expect. I don't know if this helps, but even if I knew what those words meant (which I still don't), it didn't feel like any of that.
Of all days, it happened on April Fool's Day while sitting with my two best friends. We were talking about either church or baby stuff. I can't remember what now, because in the middle of the conversation, I felt bubbles rolling up the inside of my stomach. Yeah, that's the best I can describe that first one--as though tiny bubbles were floating up. It was faint, but enough that I'm sure I started making faces, as I tend to do with strange internal issues.
I didn't say anything at the moment. I figured it was a revisit from lunch. Granted, I know what gas feels like, but when you're pregnant, there are always strange sensations taking over your body. It wasn't until later, when I talked to some other, more experienced moms, that I knew I was at the beginning of something grand.
Of course, I got radio silence from my stomach for the next few days, leaving me to wonder if it was just my digestive system. Then this weekend, I was sitting on the couch, this time in Jersey City with my husband at his cousin's apartment. We were watching Jack the Giant Slayer when the baby moved again. This time, it wasn't bubbles. It wasn't a fluttering of butterfly anything. It truly felt like something was moving on the inside of me. It was unmistakable.
Since then, I've felt the baby quite a few times when I get quiet and still enough. The movements come on without warning. Sometimes it feels like a pressing against my uterus, like he or she is trying to escape through my belly button. Other times, the movements are slow and rolling. It almost feels like the kid is doing tai chi or yoga in there, which is great because maybe he or she will teach me a thing or two about being zen in this whole experience.
So, there you have it. I don't know why they call it a kick. Just some slow-motion acrobatics and what may possibly be a few failed attempts at a prison break.
By the way, the picture below is not an eclipse. This is how much of my feet I can see when I look down now. I figured I'd take a photo, because pretty soon, I won't see my toes again from a standing position until late September.