Let’s keep this short and lighthearted, sweet Flicker, because this could be a scary week. Or it could be a perfectly normal week. All to be revealed in due time.
I simply love feeling you move inside of me. The feeling is indescribable. It is the unequivocal highlight of each day. I only wish your dad could experience this gift with us, but I guess it is something special that you and I will always share. I first felt you move on Sunday, June 8th while I was in California wrapping up a work trip with a weekend visit with a childhood friend. I was rolling out of bed on a foggy San Francisco morning to watch the French Open tennis final when I felt your flutters, which admittedly startled me. In the weeks prior I had asked several friends what your movements might feel like, and they all described this not-before-felt sensation that was more often communicated in hand gestures than spoken word. In that moment – our first moment – I completely understood why. It was not a a sensation that could be bound by words. But it was definitely you.
As we grow together each week your movements have become ever more present, something which I promise to never take for granted. After all, your doctors originally were not sure the extent to which I would ever be able to feel you move. I am so grateful they were wrong about that. I wish they were wrong about so many other things, but I will celebrate this small victory.
You are not a morning person, sweet Flicker, a trait to which I can absolutely relate. But in the afternoons and evenings your movements become my focus, and for those brief seconds I get to celebrate your life in a very tangible way. What an honor that is, because I know it is probably hard work for you to move. Visualizing your persevering movements gives me the strength to keep moving forward. Thank you for that, sweet Flicker.
When your dad and I saw you this past Friday afternoon your heart, as always, was beating strongly and you had your hands up in front of your face. Camera shy, I suppose. However one of your doctors expressed some concern about amniotic fluid levels, which could be nothing or could be everything. First thing tomorrow we get to go see your all-star team of maternal-fetal medicine specialists who will shed more light on what might be going on in your world. But we will worry about that tomorrow. Tonight we celebrate your movements, celebrate 26+ weeks, celebrate our lives together and pray that we have many, many more nights where your movements help power my world.
One thought on “The Gift of Movement”
Kari – your strength and love for Flicker is beyond comprehension. I admire you more than anyone I can think of. Thinking of you this week – and praying for sweet Flicker, you, and DP.