It’s easy to get sucked into the plethora of pregnancy information that’s on the internet. By reading a few message boards, I can find out about every disease, pain, pitfall and potential problem that has ever happened to any pregnant woman, anywhere in the world.

While some of this information is useful (how to alleviate cankles, for instance), there is definitely some information overload going on here. Case in point: many of the posters on the baby forum talk a lot about when they do and don’t feel the baby move. It’s kind of the hot topic at this stage of pregnancy – when they feel it, where they feel it and how it feels.

I had felt a few flutters, but nothing substantial. As I read more and more about people and the kicking of their babies, I just kept wondering if I/we are normal. It wasn’t keeping me up at night or anything, but it was on my mind. I was thinking about it all weekend, hoping that I would feel some substantial movement instead of a tiny tickle that could just as easily be mistaken for gas rumblings.

Last night, I finally gave up my worry. Instead of continuing to thinking about it, I finally prayed about it. I told God that I knew this baby was a gift from Him. I thanked Him for letting me carry this baby. I gave Him my worry…which freed up space in my heart to give Him trust instead. Laying in bed in the dark, I smiled from the huge relief I felt from getting rid of the burden I was carrying.

At that moment, I felt the most incredible feeling I have ever felt inside my abdomen. I didn’t just get a kick – I got a tap dance recital/high-kick routine/black belt karate chops throughout my belly. I just started crying tears of joy. Yes, those miracle kicks were a really nice reminder of the child growing inside of me, but more importantly, they were an amazing, tangible reminder that my Father hears every cry of my heart.