My baby boy is super active inside my womb. It’s a party of one and he’s having a blast. And, though he’s constantly kicking my bladder and my right rib, I love it. I smile all the way to the toilet or while gasping for air. He really likes hitting my rib, yo.
His movements also give me solace. It means he’s happy and healthy. I also love feeling him inside of me every day because I won’t have any more sonograms. My last ultrasound was the anatomy scan (at 20 weeks). I won’t get to see him again until he’s born. Nooooooo!
Despite the long wait, I’m grateful. No more sonograms means he’s growing just as he should. I just hope he’s partying it up in there and being safe. I’m doing my part to keep him safe and sound, guarding my belly whenever I’m at an event or riding the subway. I am super aware of my surroundings and mean mug anyone that seems erratic, threatening or just invading my person space. Sort of like this:
Still, all of my Momma Bear instincts don’t help my baby boy when he’s partying all alone in my dark uterus. He could dance to the Marc Anthony and Romeo Santo songs that I play -and kick himself in the head by accident while attempting his Daddy’s fancy footwork. Or worse: he could punch himself in the head like this baby boy did in utero.
Ouch! Please baby boy, don’t try this at home (aka my uterus)! Keep salsa dancing instead. Hit my bladder all you want. And, yes, even my tender rib.