Thankful for the Pain

I was laying in bed last night...trying to go to sleep...and of course this is normally when our squirmy little one wants to wake up and play.  He will start poking and rolling...snuggling around when he's had his fill of playing.  I will giggle, occasionally complain when his pokes are too hard and they hurt, chase him around poking him back to get him to do it more.  Silly mom.  Last night I felt a few snuggles and then nothing.  I rubbed my belly, poked around, and talked to him.  All the things that make me look like a nut job, but he loves so who cares.  NOTHING. Couldnt find him to save my life.  I was so confused and honestly starting to get a little scared.  Did I stand up wrong off the couch and squish him?  Did he wrap the cord?  Why is he so still?  Landon came in and laughed at me, but I was concerned.  I just lost one baby lets please not play around with this one.  And then Landon spoke and I felt this little flutter deep in my hip and towards the back of my spine...and it dawned on me...He HATES to be cold and here I was shirt up, covers off just staring at my belly.  He's nuts over Landon enough (poor kid) that hearing his voice got him to give up his hiding place.  I burst into relieved/nervous laughter and covered up my belly.  Landon looked at me funny and I said, "He's cold!"  His response was, " Well Duh, mom!  That wiggle was his way of saying 'Really Dad?  This is my mom?  She doesnt even know I hate the cold!'"  As soon as this exchange was over I felt a very familiar little squirm start in my hip and continue until it had reached it's favorite spot on my right side, on the mattress of the bed, just above my hip.  He then continued his show by poking the living daylights out of me for 15 minutes.  It hurt like the dickens and I reveled in each and every jab.


It's moments like these that make me realise that no matter how far along I am I just cant relax.  I wont feel at ease until he is OUT and in my arms.  Up until that moment he is handed to me I'm probably going to be living in some degree or another of anxiety and fear that something is going to happen.  I often get the "hand it over to God" lecture....but I have an issue with that.  If God took my Nessa, who's to say that He wont decide to do it again?  I do my best, but I just cant fully trust that all is ok.  I've heard too many horror stories since our miscarriage about babies who got tangled up in the cord as they were descending and died, or wrapped the cord around a leg and got hung up in there...stuff like that.  All I can do is pray that Daniel is fine, and try to accept that he is. 

It really helps when you are greeted each morning with a few dozen kicks and jabs :)