That’s how long we’ve been pregnant with our second baby.
You wouldn’t know it by looking at me… I’m still chasing a toddler through the park (er… mall). I’m still herding two year olds back and forth to the bathroom. I’m painting a house. Cooking dinner. Watching Doc McStuffins. And counting down the days until my parents’ visit (and the Pickle’s third birthday).
But deep down inside, in the quiet miracle place, a life has begun.
I knew it almost four weeks ago. Truth is, do you remember that fast we did? Praying, seeking God for His direction and His will? Yeah… it happened then.
God has an awesome way of answering our general prayers with His specific answers.
Six weeks ago he began a work in me. Four weeks ago I thought something was up. Two weeks ago there were two lines in the window. And on Tuesday my faith became sight.
That rapid flutter. The little round head. The black hole.
I remember it well from P’s first ultrasound, taken at 10 weeks.
But this was flippin’ incredible.
This human had only existed on the planet for six weeks. Was a mere centimeter long. And he (yes, I’m gonna call it a he until proven otherwise) had a heart that was racing at 117 beats per minute. Blood is pumping through his little body. He is multiplying in size every week. His backbone and brain were the first to form. Now his little face is coming together. He has nubby little arms and legs.
And his heart.
My own heart skips a beat just thinking about it.
And the Pickle wants me to pull out the computer so she can hear it every day.
And then she goes around to each of us, lays her head on our chest, and listens to our heartbeat. Followed by us listening to hers, of course.
That same microscopic heartbeat that will bear his first breath. That will give life to his first cries. That will quicken at the feeling of his first bath. And will empower his first laugh. Someday I will put my ear to his chest and hear it thumping proudly.
The heart I heard on Tuesday will beat when he takes his first step. When he runs in the park. When he kicks his first soccer ball. When he gives his first speech. When he falls in love.
But for now, it is my secret.
And while I didn’t know if it was possible, something in my heart is growing. One day very soon, he will hear my heart beat, too.
And he will know that we are one. The same body, but different lives.
And it’s true.
I love him already.
Only six weeks.
But if something were to happen in the days and weeks to come. And I were to never hold his hand in mine.
Or snuggle his head into my neck.
I would at least know this… that for six weeks he was part of me.
I would be certain that for six weeks he found a home in my body (and in my heart).
And I would always know that for a time, he lived. He grew. He moved.
And his heart beat.
Our heart beat.