last night was just about one of the best nights I’ve had on the farm in several weeks.
this is because it was perfect weather and absolutely NO work was involved the entire evening. although I thoroughly enjoy sanding upstairs floors and weeding, it’s nice to take a night off. (stop rolling your eyes, Seth!)
my husband has been feeling a little under the weather, and was forced to take a nap after work. instead of doing my share around the house or taking care of my sick lover, I decided to practice the whole “sleep while the baby is sleeping” thing and I took my comfiest blanket and pillow out to the hammock.
I was there to stand guard over the flock, so I let the chickens out to roam the yard — feral cat be damned. I ate a huge burrito leftover from last night, grabbed a glass of lemonade (with pomegranate!) and set the hammock to a marvelous rocking motion.
the dern thing came to a complete stop as I was mid-doze, and just as I was annoyed that I’d have to put my foot down and get the thing cranking again, I felt this thing happening in my womb area!
all I can say is that it felt different than gas. stronger than a butterfly, but not quite like, you know, a person. I have been hesitant to say, “that is the baby,” but I think I’m confident enough now to say, “that totally had to be the baby, right?”
I mean, it is the size of an avocado this week. it should be big enough to pester me.
I read that the earliest this can happen is 16 weeks, right where I am now, so I feel like there’s no way I’d be lucky enough to feel something on the early end of things. I should have to wait 4 more weeks like the rest of the population.
whenever the women on the message boards shout out confidently that they’ve felt the baby “for weeks now,” I’m like “yeah, right lady.”
what I mean to say is that I’m going to feel totally silly when I feel actual movement and not just Super Gas or whatever this is.
In the meantime, I am going to believe that the little womb monster was as annoyed as I was that the hammock had stopped, and was grumbling to get that swinging motion going again.
as a side note, I hope this doesn’t mean that the baby inherited MY work ethic, or we’re all screwed.
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