Pregnancy is full of little limbos.

For example, although the messages from my body are overwhelmingly full of “you are pregnant” information, and I peed on those two sticks that both said, “Yup. You’re knocked up” the reality of this pregnancy is still… elusive.

And that’s why I am looking forward to my first midwife appointment tomorrow. It’s the last thing they do, but it’s all I’ve been thinking about.

The heartbeat. Bud’s heartbeat.

I need to hear it; need to know that what I have been saying (based on the information I have to hand, including the fact that most of my pants don’t fit) is true. Is real. Tiny and growing.

This pregnancy is worrying to me for a lot of reasons, and I’ll get to those later. I’ve been hesitating over writing about them, primarily because my dad reads my blog, and if he knows I am worried, I worry that he will worry.

But hearing Bud’s heartbeat will comfort me. Maybe for an hour, or a day, or until my next appointment. Will take those worries and put them in perspective. This ride isn’t, after all, in my control for the most part. And the sound of Bud’s heart will remind of that but also tell me that it’s okay. That things will continue. That care of myself and faith will carry me, carry all of us.

Isn’t that something? That a small sound can do so much?