So I wrote yesterday that the first time the baby kicked was during our 20-week sonogram, but since then, the kicks have been more frequent and more pronounced. It's great fun, especially when we're sitting at the dinner table and suddenly I say something profound like, "Whoa!"
I do feel a little guilty that I get to feel all this wonder inside, and Dave gets to listen to my explanations, especially when the explanations are as interesting and varied as, "Whoa." It doesn't seem very fair...
until two nights ago, when we were lying on the floor watching TV, Dave's hand on my belly, and BOOM! Baby kicked Dave right in the hand. Dave asked, "Did you do that, or did the baby?" I told him the baby, and then we celebrated like it was New Year's Eve. Ah, the pleasures of experiencing all this stuff for the first time. It's like it's my birthday every single day.
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