(Possible) Contact

So there we are, sitting on the couch when Jess lets out an, “Oh.” Concerned, I ask her what’s wrong. She indicates her tummy and my Dad-alarms go off. I perk up as if I’d be able to dive in there and assist should anything actually be wrong. I place my hand on her tummy and rest it there for a moment.

Woah. I definitely felt something. To be sure, I mute the television (because, you know, that helps me FEEL things…). There it is again! It’s a huge surprise to me and I react accordingly. I mean, sure I know there’s a baby in there…but to feel it for the first time is totally different. It’s confirmation that there really IS something in there.

I let out a yell and bicycle my legs for a second. It was a mixture of giddy and terrified. Movement is a great sign (the doctor said so), but it’s SO FREAKING WEIRD. Seriously. There is a…THING in there. AND IT’S MOVING.

Next thing I know, Jess is up and running toward the bathroom. Ten minutes later, she emerges and says, “Well, it’s possible that could have just been gas.” We laugh.

Tell you what, even if that WAS just gas…it was still a wonderful reality-check. There’s going to be a time in the near future when I can actually see the imprint of a foot on her belly, so this should be nothing, right? Well, it was something all right. It was (possibly) the first time I’ve made contact with our child.

It’s just one world-changing moment after another. First there was the, “I’m pregnant.” Then there was the first heartbeat. The first ultrasound. The first trip to Babies-R-Us. And now, first movement. Each time I thought, “This can’t possibly get any more real.” It’s crazy to think that my entire life is going to be full of those moments. It’s scary, but REALLY exciting.

And now for something completely different.

I’d like to address the well documented “Second trimester blonde moments.” Jessica is THE most “on top of it” person I’ve ever met. She ALWAYS has her shit in order, and I love her to death for it. The list making, the reminders, the coupon cutting…she is VERY rarely unprepared or off base about anything. Still, there have been far more moments than usual where I’ve had to question her sanity. Anyone who knows me understands that I have an absolutely terrible memory. That being said, Jess’ memory has been worse than mine at times. I’ll remind her of something she said (or didn’t say) a mere hour ago, and she’ll deny it completely. I know she’s not lying about it, but hearing how adamant she is to the contrary makes me question MY OWN sanity.

Given the amount of hormones that are coursing through her body at this time, I find the best recourse is to agree with her 100%, no matter what. “You’re NOT holding an ice cream cone right now, honey? I believe you.” And so on.

That’s not to say I haven’t had my own behavioral issues lately. For some reason (can’t imagine what) I’ve been considerably more protective of her. Crossing a parking lot together, I’m scanning the area like a hawk. Driving down the highway, I’m estimating the other cars’ trajectories, ready to grab the wheel and perform evasive maneuvers. This may not SOUND like a big deal, but there are moments where I’m sure I overdo it a bit.

One such moment occurred yesterday while we were out running errands. A terrible Chicago driver (read: Chicago driver) honked at us as we were parallel parking. Seeing as we’d had our turn signal on for a good minute before we stopped, this shouldn’t have surprised the guy one bit. As this honk-happy prick drives by us, Jessica leans out the window and, to put it delicately, lets him know what she thinks of him. Now, this sort of thing isn’t abnormal. I’ve seen it a hundred times. It probably shouldn’t have mattered to me, but this time it did…

See, in MY head, this guy was going to stop his car, get out a massive flamethrower, and dispose of my new family. So what did I do? Well, I did what any other intelligent person would have done in my situation. I turned to my already seething pregnant fiancé and told her to knock it off.

Uh-oh.

So there’s a very fine line to tow. I don’t want either of my babies (Jess & the Beast – not twins, settle down) to be in harm’s way. I don’t want there to be even one spark for a potentially risky situation, and a dangerous one at that. At the same time, the absolute LAST thing I should do is further aggravate a very beautiful and understanding explosion of hormones with a snide comment. So…lesson learned. Does the road-rage upset me? Yeah. Do I think it’s unnecessary? Yeah. Even so, next time that happens I’m going to have both middle fingers fully extended and the filthiest thing I can muster up spewing from my mouth at this extremely unfortunate yet-to-be-determined stranger.

I mean…better him than me, right?