I heard the new baby’s heartbeat for the first time. Yes, I cried. And laughed. And cried some more.
I’d had a very very very early ultrasound because I was so unsure of dates and the pregnancy could have been 4 or more weeks along than we realized and so I got to see the heart beating, a tiny blinking dot of something completely unidentifiable but utterly reassuring quite early on. But that was almost 2 months ago.
Lately I’ve felt some mild ‘swooping’ feelings that I assume are movements from my little ‘roo but when I got to hear that fast, steady, very present sound: whow-whow-whow-whow-whow pumping away deep in it’s safe warm watery place, I was so thrilled. Just as thrilled as I’d been the very first time I was pregnant 23 years ago, just as thrilled and amazed and grateful and in awe. What an incredible blessing. How could I ever take it for granted? How could I have ever taken my OWN life for granted?
My heart beats. My little ‘roo’s heart beats. And together they create a pattern of a whole new life.