Dave and I have been joking that he is going through sympathy pregnancy along with me for the past couple of weeks. I like to put my hands on his belly and wait for the baby to kick or put my head to it and listen to the baby talk. After re-reading that sentence, it looks like we need to make more of an effort to leave our house every now and then. As it turns out, sympathy pregnancy is real---well, other than the growing a baby part. Per one of my weekly pregnancy emails, "it is not unusual for the nonpregnant half of a couple to share some of the symptoms of pregnancy with their babies' mothers, including weight gain, nausea, food cravings or mood swings."
When I first started noticing Dave's symptoms, I was a little worried for him. I found him curled up on the couch propped up on pillows and covered in blankets and cheesy puffs. He was on his laptop stalking the Craigslist baby sale items and watching the food network for the sixth straight hour.
"Soooooonyaaaaaaaaaaaa! Come quick!" He yelled from his throne.
Although I had been busying myself drilling random holes and stringing wire to create the ultimate speaker system, I dropped everything and waddle ran to him, "yes, my dear husband, whatever can I do for you?"
"Can you hand me the remote?"
The remote control was barely two feet in front of him perched on the ottoman next to the couch. He must have noticed me eyeing it while the blood rushed into my face because he then sputtered, "but the kitty fell asleep on my foot and I can't move or she will wake up!"
Realizing quickly that he was absolutely right as usual, I reached for the remote and handed it to him. "Do you need anything else? I'm getting ready to paint the driveway orange and I won't be able to hear you outside."
He looked up from his laptop and pointed at the television where Paula Dean was folding the contents of a tub of butter into some chocolate mixture, "the baby needs brownies."
Oh wait a second, never mind. Reverse those roles. I was getting us confused again (pregnancy brain you know.)
Anyway, I'm thankful that he does have some of these symptoms because I get more brownies out of the deal this way. Like last night around 9:00 all I had to do was whisper, "I love brownies." And he shot up like a rocket and fired up the mixer. Meanwhile I laid on the couch and convinced myself that I could feel the baby moving.
Unfortunately, what I was feeling was actually round ligament pain causing an involuntary spasm on my right side every few minutes. I'm not a doctor, but I play one on my blog. I have to laugh at myself for thinking that what I was feeling was the baby. In a way, it was a good coping mechanism for lessening the pain. But I have to laugh because those first baby movements are supposed to feel like butterfly flutters or popcorn popping. They are not said to feel like a sharp pain to the groin. Apparently, in my mind I have a miniature Bruce Lee growing inside of me trying to karate chop his way out.