The Down Low with a Fetus

We went to a movie yesterday. This isn't something we usually do, but we wanted to see this particular movie on the big screen in 3D (it was The Great and Powerful OZ, by the way, and we both liked it a lot - suck on that Rolling Stone movie critic). Also, we've sort of been planning to see more movies before the baby comes, since most of our preferred past times are too physically draining/difficult for me to participate in. **Cue sad music**

Well, it turns out that I will not be seeing many movies on the big screen before the baby comes. In fact, I think I might take a pass all together. Why you ask? Because the sound in the movie theater is just too much. And the baby hates it.

I could tell there were going to be problems from the beginning "Don't Forget Your Popcorn and Turn Off Your Damn Cell Phone" mini-movie. By the time we got through the previews, I was starting to get concerned. The bass, you know, the kind you can feel just as much as you can hear?, would bellow and the baby would start kicking the shit out of me. Seriously, I literally jumped and squeaked on more than one occasion (sorry fellow movie goers).

The movie, though very good, was difficult to sit through and by the time it was over, I literally went to the bathroom and inspected my belly, expecting to find bruises. Spoiler: there were no bruises...that are visible; they are probably on the inside. Then I started worrying about how I traumatized the poor baby. Later that night, I started to worry that the baby had maybe enjoyed the loud, low vibrations, since he was STILL kicking me. Maybe those sounds had jump started a career in breakdancing - it certainly felt like he was practicing his soon-to-be-signature windmill move. For hours. Non-stop.

Either way, I am not going to risk going to another movie during the third trimester. I don't think I have the physical fortitude.

Source: http://www.bbc.co.uk/lilyallen/celeb_breakbaby.shtml

He's allowed to do this once he's out. And we have wrapped the sharp edges of the furniture in styrofoam. Until then, I'm not doing anything to encourage it.

A Different Kind of Belly Dancing

Internet, I have exciting news! Yesterday we saw the baby move for the first time!

In the morning, I saw a tiny bulge that coincided with the sensation of being kicked and I quickly called R. I had to point out the spot on my belly and we both stared hard until we saw the little twitch. I thought that was as exciting as it was going to get, but I keep underestimating this kid's physical abilities.

Last night, as we were lying in bed, our little guy woke up for his nightly jazzercising session, except this time it was different. Each kick resulted in an obvious bulge in my belly. R and I watched in fascination for the next 10 minutes as my belly pushed out in response to our baby kicking. It was amazing.

Though it's nothing like this yet:

Almost as amazing, the baby has moved further up and is off my bladder. Oh blessed relief! I have gotten so used to the constant pressure that I was shocked by the lack of "I need to pee" sensation that I'm now experiencing. No worries though. I am sure he'll be snuggling back up to his favorite organ again in no time.