Today, I had a "Terms of Endearment" moment. Remember that movie with Shirley Maclaine and Debra Winger? Early in the movie, the filmmakers set up the mother-daughter relationship by showing Shirley Maclaine anxiously waking her sleeping infant to make sure that she was okay.
Well, today, I feel different somehow -- strangely, more comfortable than I have been in weeks. And, then I noticed I hadn't felt Audrey move in a while. And, then I started thinking, 'how long since I felt Audrey move?' and then, 'why don't I feel Audrey moving?' And, then I had Ken put his hands on my belly to see if he could feel her heartbeat. Well, neither of us could tell anything definitive from that. Then I grabbed my belly to sort of shake it around, like 'hello in there?' 'Anybody home?'
Before today, my belly's been so sensitive to the touch, that I certainly haven't poked or prodded myself -- but, I went at it this morning, pushing a little here, lifting a little there. Hell, I gave Santa a run for his money, grabbing both sides of my belly and jiggling. Flashes of complete irrationality flared in my head. 'Is she okay?' 'What if her umbilical cord has gotten wrapped around wrong while I slept or something?' 'Did I feel her move after I ate cereal this morning?'
I sat on the couch, with furrowed brow, and Tom climbed up onto my lap and started purring. And, then I felt Audrey's reassuring butt hump move under my skin. Very slowly, like, 'MOM, I'm trying to sleep in here, stop bugging me.'
Okay, sorry, just had to make sure you weren't like, dead or something. Agh. Whew.
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