A heartbeat. A glorious, furious, tiny, fragile little heartbeat. We have reached 8 weeks (is it only 8 weeks?? I feel I’ve been pregnant for 8 months!) and our early scan showed a beautiful beating baby. I know it’s still so early. I know we have a long way to go before I can breath a sigh of relief (about 18 years I suspect) but it’s a start. A baby step. A baby heartbeat.
And while a little heartbeat wildly beats alongside mine, my other wild hearts continue to run riot amid my nausea fog. Today it was my make-up drawer. The sight of my Benefit liquid rouge spilt all over my bedroom, mixed madly with my mascara and nailvarnish would normally have me hitting the roof. But today, I sat on the floor, and laughed. A hearty, heartbeating laugh.