Just ten short days after I wrote, "I think I may have felt the baby kicking", last night was a baby kick bonanza. And I loved every minute of it.
Chris wasn't home yet from his evening martial arts class, so I lay alone on my back in bed, with my hands wrapped around my tummy (I read that babies can actually feel this somehow). I talked to the baby for about half an hour, discussing the events of the day - the ultrasound where we'd seen it for the first time, the emotions felt by Daddy and me at this event, our slight frustration but-no-pressure,-baby at the fact that s/he kept his/her legs crossed over the crotch the entire time. I talked about how the baby's Auntie Sara - oh, how strange it felt to say that name, for my sister Sara isn't yet an Auntie, while I've been Auntie Laura for nearly five years! - had brought lots of wonderful hand-me-downs for the baby, and that after Christmas there would be even more preparations as we began counting down towards the birth. I told the baby how much we loved it, whomever it was, and how glad we were that the ultrasound showed everything to be just fine.
Throughout, the baby kicked and kicked and kicked, about every 5-15 seconds. Whether it was responding to the feel of my hands, the sound of my voice, or just the inactivity of my body, I don't know. But oh, it was wonderful.
I'd hoped that the kicks would be strong enough to be felt from the outside when Chris got home, but apparently not yet. Oh well, as he points out, it's hardly likely to be the last opportunity to feel a baby kick bonanza!