That Little Kickboxer


I saw it.
I saw it. Alive and kicking.

I was supposed to get up early and be ready at the convention centre at 8 in the morning for the event I have been coordinating, but the pain in my lower abdomen was giving me an excuse for a half-day leave.

I told the Partner I was to see the doctor; I realised that I lifted a pretty heavy (at least for a preggie) box yesterday, and somehow it hit that part – and it could be the reason. I would not know for sure, but a visit to the doctor should make it least worrying – and it’s almost time for another check-up, I am already 12 weeks into my pregnancy.

Then I went to the clinic.

I got into the room, explained the pain and she decided it needs another ultrasound scan.

Then I saw it.

That little head.

The heartbeat – it is still alive.

The legs.

The hands.

And just when I thought the movement I saw was due to my own movements, I heard the doctor d saying – here’s one little active baby, very active in fact it looks like it is doing a little kickboxing exercise inside my belly.

It kept kicking,and at one lucky time, it turns its head to me – and I saw shades of his eyes.

Then I found myself crying.

Here is one little fella inside me, alive and looking pretty much happy and healthy.

I did not know it would feel this way.

12 weeks

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