I own all the content and pictures on this site, except where noted. If you steal anything from me, and
especially if you do anything mean or inappropriate with them, I will find you. Then I'll sue you for
theft, slander, libel and any other law that applies. Then I'll ridicule you in humiliating ways
here and everywhere else I contribute to. If you fuck with me, I'll get get all Gladiator on your ass
and unleash hell. Think I'm kidding? So did my a couple of my exes, my old neighbors, as well as
some assholes who ripped me off on Ebay, and last I heard, they were all still trying to undo the
damage I caused.
My life changed the moment I first felt Max move inside me. I was around 20 weeks along, and I clearly remember sitting at my desk when I felt a little squiggle inside me. The best way to describe it - like a small fish swimming in my belly. I wasn't even sure that I had felt him move, or that I had even felt anything, period. But a while later, I felt it again. And again. And again.
That movement inside me changed everything. From that day forward, there was no other purpose in my life than to feel my son move. Nothing else mattered. It's not just that I lived for the thrill I felt when he moved; it was that I could not bear anything else until I felt that first movement of the day - the confirmation that he was still there, alive and growing.
There was one day - one awful, awful day - where he didn't move in the morning. Nor in the afternoon. It was nighttime - and I was nearly hysterical - when he finally gave me a good kick. I had spent that day alternately praying; talking to Max, trying to reason with him and finally begging him to fucking kick me already; and poking my belly to see if I could make him move myself.
It was that day that I realized that nothing would ever matter to me more than my son and the family we were creating; that a lot of things that had mattered up until that moment no longer mattered; that the course and meaning of my life had been irrevocably changed.
At the time, I tried to capture what I was feeling. Below is what I wrote and posted on my first website.
The Movements That Move Me 2005
My life now is all about your movements inside me -- feeling you kick, move, jab, poke -- anything that will show me you're alive and well and thriving. I wake up each day in anticipation, wondering what will prompt you to move, at what time, and for how long. If you take too long to make your presence known, I start worry, fearing the worst has happened. And when you finally greet me with a swift kick to my stomach, I count each jab, my smile growing wider with each successive one.
Nothing matters as much as those kicks. They are how I measure the hours, the days, the moments until you arrive and make me fall in love with life all over again. Nothing thrills me like feeling you move; there is nothing more important than you, your existence having by now overtaken my own.
Every little sensation makes me hold my breath, makes me stop in my tracks so I can just enjoy the moment and bask in your strength, your determination to grow and come into this world. Every little jab is miraculous -- and when you start to hiccup, my heart swells and I start to laugh -- because those hiccups drive home the undeniable fact that you are real. REAL. You are real and mine and wondrous in ways I never imagined you could be.
I haven't even held you yet and already you've made me a new, different, better woman. You've been the missing piece. And once I hold you in my arms, I will be a complete woman.