In my original post, I stated that I was unsure if I had felt any definite kicks yet. For a couple of weeks I have felt what might be little pokes and nudges, but I just coudn't be sure. Two days later, on Mother's Day, I felt my first for sure, definite, 100% positive kicks from Baby Vaught.
Here's the story...
My husband and I were on our way to church in my hometown, Potts Camp, about 40 miles from our Olive Branch home. It's Mother's Day, so we want to be at church with my parents and family. One thing I despise about my husband is his incessant need to be on time. I have no idea how he was cool in high school; if the party starts at 8, you don't arrive until 9:30, at earliest, or at least that was my rule. But Eric Pace is always on time, right on the minute. No, I don't stroll into church twenty+ minutes late, but if I'm there by 11:10-11:15, I consider myself "prompt." Well, if we don't make it past the railroad tracks in Potts Camp by 10:50, we're definitely going to be late, as two trains (one headed to Birmingham, one to Memphis), meet every Sunday morning at about that time. We round the corner onto highway 349, and the cross guards are down, the lights flashing. We can hear the train's whistle, and we see that it's still about 30 yards down the track, creeping at about 20 miles per hour. My husband can beat it and starts to speed up to do so. I, on the other hand, immediately begin screaming and crying, begging him (pleading for my life, really) not to beat the train. Growing up, I knew of several people who had been badly hurt, one even killed, at this particular crossing. I was always terrified of trying to beat the train and getting stuck on the tracks and not being able to get out of the vehicle and escape before definite tragedy.
By this time he's laughing hysterically at me, I've got tears pouring down my freshly made-up face, and I can't catch my breath (of course my inhaler is in another purse at home). He puts the truck in park, still laughing, and attempts to calm me down. It took about two full minutes for my heart rate to slow (and blood pressure to return to normal, I'm sure). I wiped the mascara from my cheeks and was attempting to re-powder when I felt it... a slight but sure poke on my bladder. It didn't help that after the scare my husband gave me I really needed to go to the bathroom. I didn't say anything at first. I couldn't be entirely sure it was the baby. But then it happened again, and I grabbed Eric's arm. "What?" he said. Vaught then did it a third, really good time, and I told him "Vaught's kicking." Eric got all excited and put his hand on my belly, but I told him he probably couldn't feel, as Vaught was poking around at my bladder. I couldn't believe that I had just been telling some family members the day before that I couldn't feel him yet but then I did on Mother's Day, of all days. Eric said it was his way of telling me "Happy Mother's Day!" By this time, I really had to go to the bathroom, so since it looked as if we'd be waiting at the tracks for a while anyway, I had Eric run me to a gas station to use the restroom. Then as we waited an additional 30 minutes at the tracks, missing church of course, Vaught kicked another solid two times. It was an incredible feeling! I say that now, knowing I might get a little annoyed with it eventually, when every poke and prod sends me running to the bathroom! But for now, it's such blessed assurance; my sweet little guy is doing just fine in there :)
Since then, I have definitely felt him. He's especially active anytime after I eat and when I lay down for bed at night. I can't help but smile when I feel him. It's his way of saying "Hi, mom!"
Yesterday I had my 20 week appointment at my OB in Oxford, where Vaught will be born. I met with my doctor, who assured me that everything with me was going perfectly well-- weight gain (he was impressed--only 10.5 pounds!), blood pressure, blood sugar, the works. I was so relieved to hear I'm still low risk and am expected to stay that way. Then we were sent to the ultrasound technician, who gave Vaught a full anatomy ultrasound to check that all of his organs were there and functioning perfectly. I also had her check again to ensure that he is still a boy! All went well, with kidneys, heart, lungs, stomach, and brain being present and functioning the way they should. She took his measurements, and he currently weighs 14 ounces--almost a whole pound! She also said I'm a couple days ahead of my due date and can probably expect him closer to mid-September if I carry full term. I was happy to hear that, though it would be wonderful if he could hold off until after Ole Miss's first home football game on September 13th. My doctor laughed at that and said that all the walking fans have to do on game day would probably help jump-start my labor; Vaught might arrive just a few hours after a Rebel victory! Regardless of when he makes his big debut, we are so excited to meet him! But there's still so much to do before he arrives, so I suppose I'd be okay waiting a few more months!
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