Perquackey’s got some new moves he’s working on. There’s your standard big pushing move, up near my belly button, probably with his leg or butt. He prefers my right side to my left for some reason. Those often come in sets of three or four, so I can occasionally grab Sandy in time for him to feel a good one.
Then there’s the speedbag practice down in my abdomen. Tiny little punches, occasionally aimed directly down at my bladder in a way that makes me gasp. I get those a lot when I’m sitting up and leaning forward in a chair, or when I try child’s pose in yoga, and I’m totally unsure if he’s saying “Hee hee, that tickles!” or “Stop squishing me!”
A few days ago, he seems to have figured out that if he pushes off at the top, and then again at the bottom, he can bounce. He figured this out at about 5:00 in the morning when he woke up with me (or woke me up for) my early morning pee-break. It made it a little tough to get back to sleep.
And I’m pretty sure the rhythmic flip-flops a few nights back were hiccups. It didn’t feel like a push or a punch, just a gentle, repetitive wave of motion.
Sometimes the movements feel like tiny electrical shocks, sometimes like the stomach drop you get on a roller coaster, sometimes like little popcorn pops. But no matter what metaphor I use to describe the sensations, the fact behind them remains: there is a tiny little human being living inside my body, and he’s moving around in there. It’s the strangest, most amazing thing I’ve ever felt.