It's endearing. And even when it may not be necessary for me to hear it, I'm only too eager to accept that safe is definitely better than sorry in any matter relating to the little one. In this case, his habit of repeating himself is a good thing.
It isn't surprising that the instinct to protect has already come out in both of us. It's why I've started counting kicks. It's why I went to the emergency room when I could've waited out my illness. It's why I wear my seatbelt the proper way now. It's why I only have eight ounces or so of caffeinated beverages in a week, even though Diet Pepsi is, to me, the nectar of the gods. It's why I'm relieved that we've made it past the 24th week and are officially in that period where it's possible to save the baby should something happen prematurely.
It's why I love that my husband can, on occasion, be insanely cautious.
As far as the mentioned illness, I'm still feeling funky, but mostly because eating doesn't really agree with me -- and I'm weak and nauseated from not eating. It must be a special nausea, because the Zofran doesn't seem to touch it. However, I predict I'll be at 100 percent soon.
It's strange, but I think the past few days were ones of rapid growth for the baby. My midsection actually looks different, with hollows on the sides of the bulging belly, and more of a bulge up high by the ribs. I'm feeling it differently now too, more aware of the various stretches and pushes and kicks, which are becoming more and more uncomfortable with each one. How quickly baby grows -- a sign of things to come once baby is born too, I'm sure you parents will agree.
A song for my hubby and his mommy -- "Don't Let The Sun (Your Son) Catch You Crying" by Gerry & The Pacemakers, which was their dance at our wedding. Thanks again to Uncle Steve and the wedding band.
The nighttime shadows disappear
And with them go all your tears
For the morning will bring joy
For every girl and boy
So don't let (your son) catch you crying.
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