A few years back, Eric and I would joke around about having a baby and what we would name it. I suggested "Platty"; that way with our last name, our child would be called "Platty Putz". Then it would sound like the animal--platypus! Hardy, har, har! You can stop laughing now...
Well, the time is finally here, and we cannot continue to refer to our baby as "It". So we stuck to the name "Platty", because it's cute.
Last night at exactly 10:00pm, I felt Platty move for the first time. I couldn't believe it! It was an emotional event. I was truly caught off-guard. I've been waiting for this moment for quite sometime, worried that I would not recognize the feeling. But I suppose my motherly instinct kicked in. I knew it was Platty, telling me that he/she loved what it had for dinner earlier-- that's right... Spam and rice!
You know that gadget machine thing that the host uses in Bingo, the one where they stick all the numbered balls, then they hand-crank it until a ball shoots out? That's what it felt like. Like Platty was sitting there, cranking a handle inside my stomach, making me feel a flutter from the inside. I just stood up straight for that moment, put my hand over my belly, and smiled the widest smile. Then I called Eric to share the news. I wish he had been there and could have felt it himself.
So here I am, trying to imagine what Platty looks like, what he/she does in its little space. I came up with a poem that we'd like to share with our friends and family:
There goes Platty, swimming in my belly,
Doing little acrobatic moves without being seen,
Swimming gently, but quickly.
I am Platty's mother.
I am Platty's swimming pool.
And I feel beautiful.