I touched her foot.

She kicked me so hard at work a few minutes ago I let out an audible gasp and my boss asked "What's wrong?" thinking some breaking news had come across the wires.

She kicked me so hard about two inches to the left of my belly button that I saw my stomach shapeshift through my black dress and sweater. And then I put my hand over the part that was bulging and did my best to send telepathic messages to my daughter to calm down, to stop whatever it was she was trying to do because the movement felt somehow riddled with fear and anxiety.

"Shhhh," I said, quietly this time to keep the coworkers' nosiness at bay.

And she pushed back against my hand, and I felt the indention of a foot--not a vague, fluttering in my lower abdomen but a human FOOT, my daughter's toes, her heel--resting against my palm. And she released, and relaxed, and fell back asleep.