Kickin' It

WEEK 24
There is a steady routine of kicking, poking, prodding, and twirling inside my belly. Though they've been happening for a few weeks now, the big kicks can still catch me off guard and make me jump. The sensation is indescribable. It's as if I've eaten something alive, and it has managed to stay alive despite all the harsh acids determined to take it down. I'm sure no one has experienced that scenario, but maybe it'll help you conjure up the image.

Steven is singing regularly to my gigantic mound, and most of the time he gets a wallop of a response, particularly with his rendition of the ABC's.