The Next Beckham

While this is not my picture, I've literally seen Gregory do this very thing.

I’m write about this in an effort to cope with it, because I am so worn out and so discouraged by this baby. I know, seems weird, he hasn’t even made it out yet, and already I’m blaming him for my emotions and fatigue.

Yesterday marked the longest period of continuous movement/kicking in Gregory’s life thus far. I don’t know what caused it, but he was the Energizer bunny from 5pm-11pm, and then again from 1-6am. He did not stop kicking and rolling around. I had feet, elbows, and fists pushing out every which way, and the majority of it HURT. Not “made me feel uncomfortable”, but HURT. I was walking through Target getting groceries, and all of a sudden, there was such a hard kick to one of my organs that it literally took my breath away and I had to stop walking and bend over. It was like someone had just knocked the wind out of me.

I came home at around 6:30, and the continuous kicking had only been going on for 1.5 hours, but I was cranky and perplexed. His movement has come in small spurts before, but never this continuous. I googled “too much baby kicking” and arrived at message boards from moms at various stages of pregnancy, some worrying about whether low amniotic fluid was the cause of feeling all the movement. Many of them were at 36-38 weeks in their pregnancies, however, when the baby is getting close to 6-8 pounds. Gregory is not even at 30, and is half that weight.

I ran across other chat boards, with moms who had been trying to count kicks. “Count kicks? I’ll lose count once I reach the hundreds!” was my first panicked thought. Then someone wrote that her doctor said she should be feeling an average of at least 10-20 kicks per day.

I was stunned, and stared down at my belly, which was precisely at that moment swaying side to side, George-in-the-Jungle style. THIS IS NOT AN EXAGGERATION, PEOPLE. IT WAS LITERALLY SWAYING.

“Jesse.” I hissed. “We should be feeling about 10-20 kicks a day.”

“Hehe,” he LAUGHED. “I’ve felt him do that on a commercial break!”

I slumped on the couch, feeling sick, discouraged, but most of all, bruised. I wasn’t even hungry for dinner, I was so worn out from bracing myself for kick after kick.

That’s how I felt after about 2 hours. Imagine how cranky I was by 11pm.

And then there were the aerobics in the wee hours of the morning. Around 3am, when I had finally managed to fall asleep, I got such a sharp kick into my ribs that it made me sit straight up in bed, eyes wide open. I wanted to scream, “OWWWWWWWW!!!!!!” but instead I just cried. I felt such fear towards this baby, wondering what he was going to do next. Β Aren’t small human beings supposed to need sleep, at some time in their lives? Please?

At this point, friends and family, you are probably thinking, “If she can’t handle this, she’s never going to make it through labor without pain medication.” While I have yet to go through it, I’ll tell you what would be different about labor. While this wasn’t as painful, it did go on for 12 hours straight. There was also the thought in my mind that he was never going to stop. Meaning, this was to be my life for the next 2 months.

I’ve explained this to Courtney before– I’m a sprinter. Give me a tough college Hell week of no sleeping, 80 pages of writing, Β 4 Finals, 2 Presentations and Graduation ceremonies (not…that…I’ve…ever…done…that…me?), and I’ll make it through.

But if I had to do that for weeks or months? Not so much. That was probably the worst part about the first trimester morning sickness. It was never extreme, never made me vomit, but it was so continuous and unrelenting for weeks. Just long enough to make the transition from “nightmare you are going to wake up from” into “this is my life, it will never get better!!”

I slept all day today to make up for Β all the missed sleep, but I’m dreading tonight. People talk about 3rd Trimester sleeplessness, due to things like heartburn, aching joints and back, and the urge to pee every two hours. I’ve got all those, and still manage to sleep pretty well.

No one mentioned that I could be up all night getting kicked to death. Why didn’t anyone tell me?

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Next Beckham

  1. Poor Kelly 😦

    It does get better; when he gets bigger and has less room to move around in, the kicks actually do get less forceful, just because it’s too cramped in there for a full range of motion. James used to kick my cervix like nothing else (thank God the placenta was in the way of my ribs). It hurts so bad that sometimes I thought he just might break my water! It’s also really typical for babies to be more active during times when you typically lie down or rest. Motion lulls them to sleep, so when you stop moving they wake up and want to party!

    There is an upside: When James was born he had GREAT muscle tone, which is part of why they let us take him home from the hospital instead of keeping him in the NICU. He was such a strong newborn that he could hold his head up the day he was born, and he hit all his physical milestones waaaay early.

  2. I never would have thought about that as an upside (instead, I’ve just pictured him running around at 8 months, knocking over candle stands in church!). Thanks so much for this, it really helps to keep that huge advantage in my sights throughout these painful moments.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s