a new joy

Rory took me camping last night. He had gone a few days ago to scout out the site and to see what else we might need. Much of the evening was spent sitting in our fabric chairs, reading our books, drinking iced tea and watching the animals in the pond in front of us, and the cows in the pasture just past the pond. It was dreamy.

I went to bed around 9, dog-tired from the last two weeks. Rory came into the tent around 10 and then the storms started. Four different storms came through, shaking the earth beneath us and allowing us to see each other much of the night due to the heavy lightening.

Around six, we were both wide awake, and listening to the rain hit our tent. I felt the baby for the first time. It was a movement coming from the same place. I felt it about five times before I told Rory. Rory put his hand on the baby, and I hoped so badly he would feel it too. I hardly trust myself on these things...

And then the baby started moving again. We felt it over and over. It was undeniable. We lay there, with the rain pouring down, warm and dry in our sweet tent and I felt a new joy and a new tenderness I had yet to experience. With every move the baby made I squeezed Rory's arm and he lay with his eyes closed, smiling with each kick, jab, summersault or whatever it was we were feeling.