Notes from a Tiny Tenant

My belly is jumping. I am hiding in my living room while my baby sleeps in the bedroom, quietly watching the show being performed by the tiny acrobat who has taken up residence in my body.

Biff! Boom! Zap! Pow! I wish I had those spinning signs from the old Batman show. I'd make them appear every time the tiny babs splashed out into his or her daily workout routine.

This little one is a lot more active then the snot queen was when she was on the inside and I can't help but wonder - with more then a small amount of guilt - if it's the new baby's way of saying "I'm here! Notice me!" A premature bout of sibling rivalry, if you may, a taste of what's to come.

There's no denying that this pregnancy has been a completely different experience to my last go round. Last time, it was all brand new and I had all the time in the world to obsess over every last detail of my pregnancy and the little life that was growing within. I was that most revered of creatures, the first time mum.

I would spend hours lying about feeling my baby move and imagining the watery world they inhabited. I religiously did my kick counts and laboured for MONTHS over what would be included in my birth plan. I signed up for pregnancy yoga as soon as I was able and stopped work at six months so that I could thoroughly relax and enjoy every second of the experience.

I worried about every move I made and how it could possibly effect my child. I took notice of every tiny kick and swirl she made, and if more then a few hours passed without my feeling her, a panic greater then anything I'd ever known would consume me and I'd rush to lie down until she started her dancing again. For nine months my world shrank to a tiny little bubble - population two.

This time around, the bubble is a little bigger and my days are spent running around after the snot queen, watching with wonder the seemingly endless stream of milestones she accomplishes. Seeing her go from sitting to crawling to pulling herself up to standing. I am in awe of her abilities and of the tiny clock that only she is aware of that tells her when it's time to learn something new. I could sit and listen to her chatter for hours. She amazes me.

So involved am I in her little world that I often forget about the watery world that exists inside of me and the tiny tenant who inhabits it.

And then there are moments like now when with a single, solid kick, my big, round belly leaps to the side and I am reminded once again of the little person within. A person who is not their big sister and who may very well come out not baldy and fair but with a thick head of dark hair. A person with a mind and personality of their own. A small little someone who one day soon will come out into the world and change the dynamics of all our lives, forever.

For now, all is quiet, and for the moment at least, my world has once again shrunk to the tiniest of islands - population two.