As the weeks have progressed, Davey has become more and more active in the womb. It used to be that he would wake me up at night with his constant movings, but now I’ve become accustomed to his rumblings and little jabs. I actually find them to be soothing and rhythmic and at times they can even lull me back to sleep. Over the past week, his movements have become a little bit more distinguished and I’ve actually been able to see him moving within my belly. For those of you like my friend Erin who finds it creepy that I’m excited about seeing my belly move, its not like I am able to see the indentation of what can unmistakably be either his hand or foot. I don’t want to give any of you “non-moms” out there this vision of a scene from the movie Alien. What I can see is actually more like a thump of my belly. And here’s the exciting part……my husband was able to experience this for the first time this past weekend.
Sunday found my husband and I avoiding the grotesque heat of the Deep South by lying on our couch and absorbing the never-ending (we hope) supply of air conditioning. While watching the Yankees game, Davey became active, swimming around fluidly in my belly, with a soft little nudge to the left and a rolling vibration to the right. His movements became more defined and I told my husband that this was it, that now was his chance to hopefully feel his son moving, something I have desperately wanted for quite some time. You see, while I love the movements of my son and feel a bond with him unlike any bond I’ve ever experienced, I also feel guilty that I am the only one within this household experiencing this. I’ve found myself watching my husband as I rub my belly and I can’t help but feel that he’s disappointed and even hurt.
My husband is the type of man who was meant to be a father. He has the paternal instinct that is pretty much vacant in almost every male. He’s had a plan for his life and children have always been in that plan. As for me, it didn’t matter one way or another if I became a mother, of course now it’s a different story. I absolutely adore motherhood and Davey isn’t even here yet! My husband has been a patient and caring man, always giving me my space and waiting for the chance that I may come around and my biological clock would start ticking loud enough to catch my attention. Fortunately for me, he stayed around long enough and sure enough those loud ticking noises got to me and I succumbed to the time. Now, I can’t help but wonder if my husband has some level of hurt or resentment that I’m experiencing all of Davey’s movements when I’m not the one who originally had parenthood on the mind. I don’t think my husband feels this way. Quite the opposite actually, I think that deep down he’s just happy to be a father in a few months. I once asked him if he felt jealous about the fact that Davey is always with me and he reassured me with a kiss and a smile that he was more than happy.
So in my hopes to make sure that my husband feels more involved in the pregnancy, we have started a tradition of my husband reading to Davey every night. I’m sure some people would find this cheesy, but as for me and my husband, it’s romantic and involving. My husband picks a book and we go into Davey’s room. I sit in the floor where the rocking chair is soon to be, and he lies across the twin bed that we left up so that I had a place to sleep when Davey is sick. He opens the book and begins to read making sure to inflict some tone of emotion and adding a level of personification to the characters. On occasion, Davey has found this to be exciting and he begins to move around again. It brings a smile to my face and I’m convinced even a level of joy to my husband. It’s a small gesture at this point, and doesn’t require much of our time, but it’s worth the time and the energy and I can’t help but love my husband and son even more. I just feel privileged to be a part of their interactions and can’t wait for more.