jetsetgreen

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

She Moves

She wakes up at 11pm and spends the next few hours revolving in her little space. She rolls, thumps, and wiggles. Small bumps push out. A transverse stretch hits the top of my abdomen and under my belly at the same time. If I lean too much on my stomach, she pushes persistently, rhythmically, on the flattened spot where her world meets my mattress, until I move. My shirt quivers where the top-most curve juts from my body. I gasp a little when she hits a vital organ I can’t identify beyond a sharp pain in a remote place it wasn’t a moment before.

The boys can feel her. They press their hands around me waiting for the next shove. They open my mouth for me and shout down my throat to her in a forgivable misunderstanding of my anatomy. When they start yelling at each other in joy or anger, she tosses in recognition.

I can no longer sleep on my back. It feels wonderful at first, but her weight concentrated on my spine makes my future ambulatory intentions impossible. I get out of bed and almost collapse from the pain. I try to straighten and walk while spinal nerves regain their impulses. I hold the corner of the dresser, hand skims the wall. I remember developing a wall-skimming habit with my first baby; I could not trust my equilibrium. It was months, or maybe years, before I walked down a hall without stretching out my right hand and feeling the texture of the surface under my fingertips. Once I forget about her and try to bend down straight and quick. The agony nearly knocks me down. I do not forget to adjust again (legs wider, bend to the side, accommodate where the belly wants to be.)

The relaxin makes every day gripping, pushing, and reaching a question instead of a certainty. It’s a hormone that softens your joints and ligaments to prepare you for birth, and it’s not localized. I grasp a glass and it falls through my hands, spilling milk like a thin waterfall down the counter and puddling opaquely on the floor. I push the car brake and feel the curb stop my car. I toss an object and it does not go where it should. J tosses something at me, and although I feel my arms move and my fingers stretch in anticipation, I can’t close around it to secure. She is the only thing I know I have secured, gripping her and keeping close until I must release her.

I hunch over, compressing her space, and she protests in reaction. She begins to pick directions to test her growing limbs--left she goes, then right, then out out out. It’s too early for her to get stuck in my ribs. There is room to turn where soon there will not be. I feel her and she feels around me.

16 comments:

Brinestone said...

Beautiful. :)

whitneyingram said...

Love this. Well written.

How many weeks do you have left?

Hilary said...

Carina, are you that far along?
Suck it up sister. :)

Mom said...

I love being pregnant! Well maybe not so much now as I did when I was young. Now anything that possibly can hurt does...my last two have been about a month early. I think that is my gift for having so many.
Sandy
www.twelvemakesadozen.blogspot.com

Aim said...

I'm 10 weeks pregnant and I am in the horrible being sick phase. I'm jealous that you can feel your baby move, I like that part. This is my 5th baby, I also remember how uncomfortable pregnancy gets but anything is better than feeling like your going to throw up at any minute all day right? Growing a person is hard work.

Kalli Ko said...

I love being pregnant, up until the very end. This made me miss that connection immensely.

HOORAY BABY GIRL!

A Few Tacos Shy... said...

This was beautiful!

Is it wrong that I'm super jealous? I only got to do it once and I wish I had known so I could savor it more.

wendysue said...

Someday she will LOVE that you wrote this.

Beautiful.

Donna said...

what a beautiful post. it brought back memories for me. thank you.

Natalia said...

What a beautiful post. I wish my body felt the same way about my pregnancy that my mind feels when reading this.

Kelly said...

Great post. Hope things go well for you. I don't miss a thing about pregnancy but like my mom used to say... it's 9 months of inconvenience for an eternity of happiness. The last month really sucks! Sorry for you.

Fig said...

I can't wait to see her. Enjoy the moving, you will miss it. You know that, of course.

kristib said...

I loved this! I'm due on Sunday with a little girl so I related completely. Congratulations.

Melissa said...

Your beautiful baby girl will cherish this.

It makes me want another one!

ray-ray says said...

Love this.

Tzipporah said...

So sweet. Yesterday I was thinking, hmm, I'm tired and grumpy and gaining weight. Thyroid? Pregnancy?!?

Nope, just too long a winter. :)