Lately, I've been trying to get KB's hand in the right spot with the right pressure, so he can feel little kicks and punches. For some reason, it's become a mission to help him experience that.
Then this morning, I was getting pummeled with a series of particularly powerful kick-punches and put his hand in just the right spot...and he felt it. For the first time, he unselfconsciously talked to the baby, calling it "my baby," and I had a brief moment of pure happiness and peace. It's the little things, sometimes.