Already My Heart Stops

I knew, since finding out Dos is packing a penis, that our lives were going to become exponentially more nerve-wracking. Above and beyond the harried air of just being a parent to two children (at once), simple observation of my friends' boys, memories of my brother as a child, and an eye and ear firmly planted in mommy blogging world has prepared me for the reality that this child, this boy, is going to stop my heart on a daily basis with his wild antics. Baby girl doesn't climb furniture and launch herself off it. She doesn't tease large animals. She has a healthy gauge of where the lines between comfort, discomfort, and danger lie and she doesn't hesitate to reach for me for security when she feels like they're being crossed. We can play dress-up on our bed and I can turn my back to grab a necklace for her because I know she'll still be there, sitting and smiling and waiting in the middle of my bed, not diving of the side head first. But a boy. Oh, boy.

So I knew about the heart-stopping moments in my future. I just thought I had another several months to steel myself.

But apparently, this boy likes to thrill his momma from the get-go.

I've been delighted this pregnancy with a posterior placenta. A far cry from my movement-dampening anterior placenta with baby girl, I felt kicks very early with Dos and have loved every second of feeling him romping around in there. And I was loving having a relaxing pregnancy, with only a fraction of the constant worry that accompanied me through my first.

Dos must have heard me say that last week. I can already imagine the wheels turning in his head, the mischievous smile on his face.

I didn't feel him as much this weekend. I chalked it up to being busy, to be up on my feet, working on the house, visiting family and friends, not having time to sit and count every bump and nudge. I looked forward to Monday, to sitting at my desk and reconnecting with him.

But then Monday came and the movement I was used to didn't accompany it. There was still movement, but it was lighter somehow. Deeper. More sporadic. I told TH it was like someone had gone from talking to mumbling. Still sounds being made, but not as distinct and forceful.

In rolled the worry.

I gave myself a sugar headache Monday afternoon trying to get him all hopped up, hoping to feel him dancing around. No luck.

By the time I went to bed Monday, laying still and willing him to move, my worry had grown like a thunderhead. Mom emotions are protective, impressive things. I told myself I'd give him another chance Tuesday before calling the doc. He didn't change--a dull thump or twitch here and there. Nothing solid and reassuring. Nothing saying, "Don't worry, Mom! I'm loving life in here!" A couple of hours after breakfast with no internal dance party in sight, I called my OB's office and left a message. I think I sounded calm and collected on the phone, but when I hung up, tears stung my eyes.

And then, just when Dos could probably sense that he had driven me to the brink, lunch comes and goes and with it, a good, old-fashioned dance party.

When the nurse called me back, I told her the story of the last several days, including the increased movement I had felt only a few house before. She told me I could come in any time to get checked if I felt nervous. I thanked her and hung up, already feeling better.

There was more movement last night after dinner, and I was smiling and hoping that he was getting back to his usual rambunctious self. I allowed myself to relax.

And then he decided to mess with me again, to hide all night long and see how long it took until mommy freaked out.

At about 5:45 a.m., I made up my mind to just go to my doc's office before work for a quick check. This worry thing sucked, and if I could just know that he's okay in there, that everything is okay in there, I could just relax.

And then, bump. Bump-bump-roll.

And my heart started beating again.

So my adventure as a mom of a boy has already begun. Already he tests me, scares me, messes with me to see what effect it has. Already my heart has stopped beating because of him.

Have mercy.