There are a few things in life I will never tire of... and feeling this miracle move around inside of me is one of them.
I first felt this little one move much earlier than I felt Kaleb. The tiniest of little flutters were experienced when the world around me was quiet and still, usually in the middle of the night. Then we went home for my grandfather's funeral and I stopped feeling flutters much, but I attributed it to not really sitting much and crashing as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Sure enough, two nights before Kaleb and I headed back to Poland I was up in the night, unable to sleep when I felt baby's distinct kicks. Two of them to be exact. Not just little flutters, but definite little kicks. And with that a flood of memories can rushing in, reminding me of the precious moments in store. From the faintest of flutters to definite kicks, to daddy feeling from the outside, to strong movements, to being able to determine which body parts are where.
When I arrived back in Poland John was able to feel baby kick that first night. (One benefit of being up with jet lag!) Sweet, precious memories that I will always hold close. I tend to make a big deal about firsts, and first baby kicks felt is certainly no exception.
Now our little guy's movements remind me that he is constantly growing, getting bigger and stronger, and preparing to join our family in the months ahead. Each little kick also reminds me that God is so gracious, that His timing in perfect, that He is in control, and that He loves this little one even more than I already do. Amazing.