BABY WATCH.

It's early morning and the sun is barely up when Hannah calls for me from upstairs. I scramble like an idiot to see what's wrong, nearly knocking over the chair and everything else in the cabin––maybe even the cabin itself––because something in her voice tells me it's about the baby.They say most people feel the baby by twenty weeks, and we'd made it into week twenty-one without feeling the "quickening" or bubbles they talk about. It's hard as first time parents not to feel nervous. About everything. And the baby's not even born yet. So we're nervous, because unlike "most people," we hadn't felt the baby. And when I hear Hannah call, that fact, and all the subsequent terrifying implications of that fact, is what is going through my mind.But when I get to the top of the stairs Hannah's just smiling curiously with her shirt pulled over her belly."Watch," she tells me.And for a couple of seconds all I can see is her heartbeat until suddenly something begins pressing against her belly, lifting the skin slightly, then disappearing again. Over and over. It's kind of creepy and all sorts of amazing. And for the next few minutes, then the next few days, we play this game, where we watch this creature––presumably a baby––kick and turn its way around Hannah's stomach. It's incredible to observe, and by all accounts it will only grow more intense and interesting. Sometimes I suppose you just have to have faith in the system of birth which has successfully created billions and billions of humans over the years. With faith restored, I now look forward to Hannah calling for me––baby in her voice––with hopes that I may get to watch our little dude––or dudette, respectfully––bumble about for a while.- Jesse.