Hey look — it’s the 3/4 mark!
Kermie — who needs to hurry up and name himself already — celebrated the 30-weeks’-gestation mark by being exceptionally active all day long. We almost reached a distracting level of squirminess; I was thankful that he hadn’t yet gotten to the point where he could inflict pain (or that he hadn’t positioned himself under my ribs) because it would have been a pretty uncomfortable day if he had.
If he’s of average size, Kermie is between 15.5 and 16 inches long now (for reference, an American Girls doll is 18″ long) and weighs about three pounds. All these pregnancy websites seem to think that women want to associate their baby with different types of food (which I think it kind of gross, actually); apparently a head of cabbage weighs about the same as a 30-week baby. They’ve stopped giving me very much information about all the new developments, since at this point the main thing that Kermie is doing is gaining weight. I did read something interesting, though; when a baby is born, his vision is about 20/400. It then improves to 20/20 (generally speaking) after birth.
Anyway, when I got home last night, I was relaxing on the couch in a fairly tight white t-shirt. As I watched, my stomach went nuts. Up until now, I never would have believed that babies moved so much that you could see it through flesh and clothing; I mean, I’d heard that such things happened, but I couldn’t quite fathom it. I know it’s probably a cliché, but it was literally like watching a bunch of puppies or kittens squirming under a piece of fabric.
When I got old enough to think about such things, I always kind of worried that being pregnant would be somehow… gross. Definitely weird. But the thing is, while occasionally astonishing, it’s really never unpleasant to feel him rocking and rolling in there (at least, not yet). I’m not freaked out by it. Instead, it’s oddly comforting — like having a pet on your lap, only it’s with you all the time. And it’s this strangely personal thing; it feels like everyone must be able to feel this tectonic activity going on, that everyone must be able to see it — but in reality, it’s just you and the baby. Even Ryan missed out on all the in-utero partying, because every time he’d come over to watch or feel, Kermie would freeze.
Toward the end of the evening, something happened in there. Either someone slipped Kermie a Red Bull, or he didn’t like something he heard on the SOTU (we were watching it on DVR) or he just really wanted my attention… because he picked out a spot about three inches left of my belly button, and did this to it:
I am not even kidding. I have no idea how he punched or kicked so rapidly while in water, or why. It was the strangest thing ever, and while it didn’t exactly hurt, that spot was a little sensitive for several minutes afterward.
I really have to wonder whether this is a boy thing, or if in-womb personality indicates what he’ll be like when he’s born. Is Kermie going to be the kid who never sits still and refuses to sleep? Are our jokes about him being a martial artist or break dancer not, in fact, actually jokes? Or is this just the result of a random bunch of factors — my diet, how much room he has, his position, outside stimuli? I hope that Kermie grows up to be a confident, happy (and obviously healthy) boy and man; he certainly doesn’t seem like a shy little kid right now, but then again, even the most introverted child might let down his guard when alone with his favorite person (and I’d like to assume that at this point, that’d be me).
Man. Thirty weeks. Definitely a case of time being relative… it simultaneously feels like this has been going on forever, and that it is all moving frighteningly quickly…