I was on holiday last week when I felt what I think was the chicklet’s first, official movement.
After trawling a gazillion pregnancy forums about baby movements, I was expecting to feel something a heck of a lot earlier than week 21, along the lines of ‘rolling, gentle waves’, a lovely ‘fluttering sensation’ or a feeling of ‘champagne bubbles popping’.
The chicklet clearly did not get the memo because a) he took his sweet time to make contact and b) his first hey-ho-folks-I’m-here-start-the-party announcement did not feel like lovely, fluttery champagne bubbles I’d been promised but rather an unmistakable and surprisingly pronounced thump.
I giggled, pointed and Mr Chick and I peered at my belly not really sure what we’d see but that was it. One thump, and he was gone.
Given I was stuffing my face with a delicious piece of grilled fish at the time, it’s my guess that he was passing on his appreciation of the chow heading south (and I think I’m right, as he’s now pummelling me during every meal like clockwork). Kid, I hear ya. You like food. I’ve known that since the black jellybean incident.
He refuses, however, to perform on cue, going all quiet when I tap my belly or sing him a song – and he was even missing in action when his father attempted to strike up a conversation with him through my belly-button while we were away.
What I’m finding works though to get his attention, though (and you can bet I’m having fun with him) is icy cold water, sweet things, when my belly is warm under a blanket or I’m on my side and he settles into a cosy nook for a snooze. But my bump’s still in that lovely Are-you-fat-or-are-you-pregnant limbo so I’m guessing we’ve got a while to go before I see rumps or feet or hands sticking like lumps out of my belly – or until my sister and I can go ahead with our plans to re-create the Malteasers pregnant belly ad.
Can’t wait for that.