A little bit of favoritism

I was sitting in a doctor’s waiting room when I felt Ladybug move for the first time. It was a little flutter on my left side, which I quickly dismissed as gas until it happened again and I remembered I was pregnant.

“I felt the baby move!” I yelled, tears welling up in my eyes.

From that point on, Ladybug couldn’t sit still. She’d roll from side to side, turn somersaults, even get the hiccups.

“Honey, you’ve got to see this!” I’d call to my husband each time my stomach bounced up and down.

No sooner would I hear his footsteps approaching that Ladybug would stop moving. My husband would sit patiently next to me, his hand on my belly, waiting for her next show. Nothing.

“I guess she’s asleep,” he’d say after several minutes of calm and walk off.

As soon as his back was turned, Ladybug would resume her acrobats. This didn’t happen just one or two times; it was throughout my pregnancy. In fact, my husband only felt Ladybug move once the entire time, and I’m pretty sure that was an accident. If Ladybug had known her daddy’s arm was wrapped around me at the time, I don’t think she would have flipped sides.

My husband and I joked that Ladybug had already developed a tendency for pranks in the womb. It hasn’t changed since, at least when it comes to my husband. Just about anytime he tries to pick her up or kiss her good night, she pushes him away and yells, “No!” Sometimes she’ll run toward him with her arms open as if she’s going to give him a hug, then makes a detour at the last minute. Meanwhile, I’m the recipient of an overabundance of hugs, kisses and overall clinginess from Ladybug.

I’m sure this mommy preference is just a phase and one day my husband and my roles will be reversed. Until then I’ll try to feel guilty for secretly relishing that I’m the current favorite.

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