Whoosh-Whoosh!

Written August 23, 2013.

Jeff and I had the incredible joy of hearing the most wonderful sound in the world this morning: Button's whooshing heartbeat on our doctor's Doppler! Since it's been almost a month since our last appointment, and since many of my symptoms have faded but I can't feel movement yet, it's often hard to believe Button is really in there. And so, while I went into today's appointment with more hope than I did in the first trimester, there was still that little doubt, until that wonderful whooshing began!

Our doctor was able to find the heartbeat immediately and told us Button is squirming around and sounds perfect. Those were wonderful words to hear, but the best part of the morning was simply lying back, holding Jeff's hand, closing my eyes, and listening to that sweet, sweet rhythm.

Our family suffered a kind of loss yesterday; my parents' second home burned in a sudden fire in the wee hours of the morning. Blessedly, they were not there and no one was injured, and the firefighters worked tirelessly all day to prevent the fire from spreading to other houses on the street. We lost a lot of things--some of them mere articles of clothing or pieces of furniture, but others much more sentimental--the creche my dad's best friend built for us, the cross I stitched for my mum in college, the framed collection of verses on fathers and mothers that I gave my parents in high school. The memories contained in those things remain, but the tangible reminders of those memories are no longer ours to hold.

And yet, how good is our God? In the midst of loss, our family is celebrating the joy of new life as we begin sharing our news with our extended family and friends. In the destruction of treasured memories, there are new memories created as we hear a heartbeat for the first time. In the realization that nothing is truly ours on this earth, there is the reminder that our Father gives us the greatest gifts on loan from heaven for a little while.

Button, you are so loved--not just by your mom and dad, but now by a much larger world who can't wait to meet you. You are a tiny (navel-orange-sized!) ball of hope already, and I am so blessed to hold you securely in my tummy, protecting you as best I know how.