I’ve never considered myself a lazy person, but these days my favorite pastime is whiling away the minutes, perhaps hours, between awake and asleep, laying naked between the bedsheets with my hands on my belly, listening.

People keep asking if I can feel the baby yet and I believe I do. Not in your stereotypical bulge-your-belly-out-like-an-alien-kicking-its-way-out way, but more in the way you hear the roar of the sea inside of a large seashell. I lay and listen quietly and suddenly it’s the ocean inside me: rhythmic lapping and waves reaching farther than expected. I can feel churning and gurgling and sudden lurches, a bit like I’m standing on the deck of my own boat and I can feel the engine humming in my bones.

Granted, some of what I am feeling may be pregnancy gas, but I think some of it’s the baby too.

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