The First Kicks

“Brandon, you need to come sit by me right now.”

We were lounging on the couches late last night with the television blaring in front of us. Typical night. Nothing special. He looked at me casually, not sure if he was willing to get up and re-adjust his seating arrangement. It’s not the first time I’ve demanded he sit by me. But this was different. My eyes were wide. My body frozen in position. My hand resting on my belly. “Come, COME! Hurry! You want to feel this.”

He jumped from his seat and came over to where I was sitting.

“Be careful, I don’t want to move.”

Lowering softly onto the couch, Brandon leaned toward me and put his hand to my belly. Would he actually feel her kick this time? We’ve tried for weeks. Jiggling. Pushing. Prodding. Our baby girl kicks around all the time but they just aren’t strong enough to make a dent in the outside world. But this had to be different. I knew I just felt two distinct little bumps against my arm. Outside bumps. Was it the peach I just ate making her a little wild? Was she just bigger? Stronger? Maybe if we were very still…

“Just give her a minute and you’ll feel it. She’s flipping all over.”

And there it was—another strong kick. Brandon and I both gasped and looked at each other.

“Was that her?!” He was so excited. I nodded and laughed. And water started pouring out of my eyes. Because she was there. She was definitely making a dent. Brandon could actually feel his daughter. “OH, that is SO AMAZING.”

Two more little kicks.

“Is that really her?”

“Yes! Can you actually feel it?”

“YEAH, totally!”

He sat there for a few more moments talking to her, and waiting for her to flutter. When she finally settled down, both of us were just so happy. So thrilled. So lovey. It was such a simple moment. So unexpected on a late Sunday night. The first interaction between father and daughter. The first time he could talk to her and feel her respond.

It was 5 minutes of real joy.