Ha ha, isn't this picture hilarious, and a little bit weird. It isn't me, of course, but it perfectly sums up how I felt at 5am this morning. As per usual, and I know, I'm a broken record on this subject, I was awake when I was meant to be asleep. It was a particularly frustrating feeling as I am feeling knackered at the moment and was relishing a good kip. But there you go, it didn't happen.
What did happen was some good, lovely baby kicking. Baby kicking is amazing. And this little Pullen Bear is an active, physical soul that spends the majority of its time knocking against my insides. This has become usual (amazing) practice. But early this morning, while I was awake, in those dusky, early morning hours, my hand, and one of it's body parts had 'a moment'. Seriously, I'm not the gooey, sentimental type, but I actually felt like I touched my baby. It was probably because I was quiet and focusing on the baby (not much else do to at such an hour), but I actually felt as though I could reach in there and pick the little bubba out. Of course I can't, and I wouldn't want the baby to make an appearance this early on, but it felt very real, and really rather special.
It is so crazy the way you carry this darling thing around for so long, and you love it, and connect with it, and yet you don't know it's face, it's sex or it's personality. The mind boggles when you start thinking about the person growing in your tummy. It is an amazing experience being a pregnant woman, as long as you don't focus on your lack of sleep.
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