Once, when I was pregnant with Sophie, I was sitting in the car with my husband and felt her make a dramatic shift. So I looked down and...there was a tiny foot sticking out of my stomach!
Not through my stomach, mind you, but pushing against it with such force that it made a perfect imprint of a foot against my skin.
Holy cow, I nearly fell out of the car.
Why was I so shocked? Well, and I get this is nutty, but I think I still wasn't sure I was having a baby at that point. At least, I hadn't grasped what was inside me had clearly been through the conveyer belt, all parts attached, and was ready to get shipped. This was perhaps 4 weeks prior to birth and I'm telling you, there was some sort of disconnect going on in my head. Even though I'd seen the diagrams of fetal development throughout gestation, I somehow didn't process there was an actual miniature human inside me. What was I thinking, then? Did I assume she was an unformed blob until three minutes before delivery, a hasty assembly, and then...presto?
I don't know. Don't make me account for my crazy mind. But I am telling you. That foot shocked me.
I pulled up my shirt, reached down and touched it, this little foot sticking out of me. It didn't budge. So I pushed on it a little. And it pushed back.
That is my Sophie. Just a girl on the go. She is the coolest person to be around, if you can keep up with her. She reaches for the things which interest her, she goes after them with a sense of possibility that is awesome to behold. It's not that she's overly confident. She has her doubts and struggles...but she still reaches. She still goes.
I don't want to turn this into something corny and maybe it's too late for that, but as I rush around trying to keep up with my beautiful amazon I often think of that foot, her tiny calling card putting me on notice, letting me know how this was going to play out, how it was all going to be.