I had my 32 week check up today and it was a bit of a roller coaster. Don’t worry, there is a happy ending.

Up until last week, Optimus Prime had a steady movement rate. She’d move a lot for a couple days and then settle down to rest. It is hard work in there after all. At night, however, she’d be pretty active. As I mentioned before, she had taken up the battle against the mattress most nights, and while that can be frustrating when you want to sleep, knowing that your kid is alive and kicking (so to speak) is very reassuring.

Last week she was on fire. It was like mandatory gym class daily, nightly, and everything in between. Massive pokings occurred between her and the Husband. It was AWESOME, bruised-worthy, but a good thing.

Then she stopped. Completely. I felt her here and there, but not much. I assumed she had changed position and I wasn’t feeling much. I mean, pelvic pressure had increased (oy) so that was probably it. Except, I barely felt her at night. This started on Saturday. Today was my 32 week appointment and I figured I’d mention it since it had been almost a week.

The doctor ordered a non-stress test to see how she was doing. So for 20 minutes my belly was hooked up to probe-like things, and I lay there, listening to a rhythmic heartbeat that sounded oddly like the samba. The test looked fine, but to be on the safe side, I was sent to the hospital for a…Biophysical or whatever. Basically it’s an ultrasound due to decreased fetal movement.

DECREASED FETAL MOVEMENT!!! Think about that for a second. What person wants to hear that they need a test due to decreased fetal movement. It sounds like the child has one foot in my ribs and the other in the grave! My poor Optimus Prime is lethargic and non-responsive! And I had to drive 30 minutes to the hospital (where I’m delivering) to make sure everything was fine.

I mean, it was fine. The doctor just wanted to be safe. I knew it was fine. And yet…there is always a nagging feeling.

I met the Husband at the hospital (not having an accident multiple times on the way I’m happy to report) and had the ultrasound.  Everything is fine. She is fine. Here’s what we learned:

• She is not head down like the doctor thought. Instead, she is sitting on my left hip region, which explains a lot of the pain I’m having, and her head is up at my ribs.
• We couldn’t double check gender unfortunately, because not only was she turned to the side, but her feet were tucked into legs in a baby yoga pose.
• The test rate the baby on a scale from 1 to 8 (1 being bad and 8 being good). Optimus Prime is an 8, thank you very much.
• We saw her heart beating and heard both that and the placenta beat.

• Her stomach was full so she had just eaten apparently.
• This child is Giganta or something like it. Maybe more like moose or linebacker? She’s weighing in at an estimated 5 pounds 4 oz, putting her in the 91st percentile for weight. Basically, she went from measuring 3 days behind at 20 weeks to measuring 1 1/2 weeks ahead at 32. I really, really don’t want to pop out a big baby. Eep.
• She has a femur and brains! My child is talented!

A few weeks back I was trying to fall asleep. Laying in bed at some ungodly hour of the night I started to feel movement, not just random movement, but a furious attack. Over and over OP kicked or punched or headbutted the evil fiend. Over and over I felt her rage against her enemy. I turned over hoping to dislodge her from her attack, and it worked for about five minutes when she readjusts herself and launches the attack anew.

What enemy, you ask? The mattress. Apparently the mattress has made a grievous offense towards Optimus Prime and now almost every night, she must show that mattress a lesson. I imagine that little OP talks to the mattress every night and says, “So mattress. We meet again.” or something to that effect. Something dramatic and Stewie-like. But then something has to keep me amused as I lay there night after night, caught in the middle of this epic battle.

And before you comment to tell me why she’s attacking the mattress, I suspect it’s because I’m sleeping on my side and it’s pressing in on her space. Which is actually a good segue way into the next topic up for discussion.

The Husband has a new game around these parts. Occasionally, was we watch TV, Optimus Prime starts moving around. Being the good wife trying to make the Husband feel a part of this pregnancy I notify the Husband so he can feel if he wants. Over the last week or two, he has started to play a game with his daughter wherein he pokes her back. It is absolutely hilarious. I get a kick from her and an answering poke from him in the same place. She pauses a moment and then usually kicks (or punches) back. Lather, rinse, repeat. She doesn’t always get it, but more and more she pokes back. They are bonding. Through my stomach. No bruises yet, but give it time.

The first in my list of baby questions I’ve gotten over the last few weeks.

Why do you call the baby Optimus Prime?

One of my jobs in life is to torment the Husband. I’m very, very good at it. Just ask him, when he’s not sitting in a corner rocking himself, mumbling, “Marshmallow hamsters eat stereos.” Pretty much since we were married, one of the games I would force him to play is name our child. I would come up with these random names and suggest them for our offspring. For example, “Hey the Husband, you know what would be a good name? Bubba Joe Ourlastname. Do you like it? Hey! if we have twins, they could be Bubba Joe and Bubba Jean Ourlastname. What do you think?” To which he would shake his head, wonder why the heck he married me, and tell me no. I’ve tried various names during the 11 years we’ve been married from Charlemagne to Virginity to Baba Ganoush.

So after the first Transformers movie you can bet I turned to the Husband and said, “You know, Optimus Prime Ourlastname would be a really cool baby name.” Now the Husband is a huge Transformers fan from childhood and instead of saying no, he realized the sheer genius of it. And if we had twins, Optimus Prime and Megatron would be perfect! They’d be mortal enemies! We spent hours discussing the implications of what a great name it was…Okay, we didn’t. But the Husband did laugh and say that the name would actually work.

Now, I may be many, many things and some of what I am is crazy, but I would never traumatize my child with some of the names I’ve come up with in the past. And that includes Optimus Prime. However, I realized that while the baby is cooking, so to speak, she needs a name and everyone uses bean, peanut, spawn, etc. I thought, why not call her Optimus Prime now. It’d be fun and we’d get less frowns with that than if I went with my first choice–the parasite. So Optimus Prime it became.

I should note that my parents actually are partially to blame for this. My dad named the Sister and I while we were in the womb after great Yankees of the 70s, and look how well we turned out! Oh, wait. Crap.