Beat of a baby's heart

So today was the big day, the first prenatal visit. I woke up early and curled my hair. Then I wrapped the books that we are sending to our parents: For John's parents, Chicken Soup for the Grandparents' Soul, with a post-it from John on it that reads, Guess what? For Dad and Julie, a book called Totally Cool Grandparenting, with a picture of the pregnancy test tucked in the first page with a note that says, Guess what? And for my mom and Jack, The ABCs of Grandparenting, with the actual (second) pregnancy test in a Ziploc bag stuck to the back of the book.

The doctor's visit went by in a blur. The doctor came in and congratulated us, did the usual exam, and then brought in the ultrasound machine. There was our little baby, less than an inch tall, and its tiny beating heart. It was so wonderful. I held John's hand and we stared in wonder at that little pulse. The doctor measured the baby, did his magic with numbers, and our baby is due on February 12. He says I get a lollipop if I can manage to have the baby on that day.

John said, "Great job! You're doing a wonderful job of growing our baby!" Then I went to the lab where they took a cup of my urine and 6 vials of my blood, and then to radiology to schedule another ultrasound for September.

Afterwards, John and I walked out into the bright sunshine and marvelled at what had just happened. We are really having a baby! We went to the post office and mailed the packages to our parents. We went to the Olive Garden and had lunch. And now here I am at work again, just like any other day. And the baby is still there, deep within me, its little heart beating on and on.