Daddy is feeling Flutterbug moving around quite a bit nowadays. In spite of the cushioning provided by my anterior placenta, I've been feeling the kiddo moving around, swimming, kicking, punching, breakdancing, pingponging and so forth in my tummy for a while now. Until this week, her Pop had only felt her once, fleetingly, at the family reunion back in May. That tiny thump was nothing compared to the repeated kicks she delivered to his hand one night earlier this week as we lay in bed playing one of CoolGram's Rockabye CDs to my tummy. It was the kind of kick that made him say "That was the baby kicking!" instead of "Was that the baby kicking?"
This morning as I was brushing my teeth, he said, "I felt the baby moving this morning." I waited for the punchline, because how could HE feel the baby if I didn't? Well, the punchline was that the baby wanted him to wake me up because I was snoring! Seriously! He had put his hand on my belly while I was still sleeping this morning, and she kicked right there. For a change, I didn't feel it, but he did. Isn't that sweet? Awww.
I've always heard about women telling their husbands to come feel the baby move, only for the babies to stop moving as soon as the dads position their hands. Flutterbug is the opposite. If she's moving around and Bill puts his hands anywhere near her, the next kick will be right under his hand. He can't always feel it, but I can. She's already a daddy's girl! And she definitely already has him wrapped around her little tiny finger.
