Kick Counts

Kick counts are the new bane of my existence. Do doctors do this stuff just to stress you out? I am 37 weeks today (woohoo!), and very happy to be here. There is nothing left to do but enjoy whatever time I have left between no bed rest and officially becoming a parent. That is, I have nothing left to do but worry about kick counts.

This morning, I noticed my boy was moving a bit less than I think I usually feel. Not to worry, I thought. Not to worry at all. I diligently went to pre-natal yoga, and in class teacher talked about connecting with baby in the belly and letting go of tension in our face. My version was to internally and not very nicely tell the boy to please make his presence known, and my brow was decidedly furrowed. He did not comply.

I came home to where my husband was working and expressed my concerns, already imagining our trip to the hospital. My husband got me a HUGE glass of ice-water and an apple. I ate the apple to induce a sugar high for the kid and then downed the water. I lay on my left side. Within minutes, the boy started punching the belly. He also got the hiccups. He seemed sort of pissed, even my husband couldn't help a note of accusation as he said, "you woke him up and gave him the hiccups." I was so relieved I said, "Damn right."

This is how parents become crazy, right? This is how one becomes that overprotective mother you kind of roll your eyes at because she is always worried about the possible worst case scenario? I never thought that was me. I admit to having some issues with anxiety, but it's never been my main thing. I think of myself as sort of the calm, mellow person. HA! Kick counts have put me in my place.