Seeing is believing . . .

https://www.instagram.com/fortyfortybaby/

It's not that I didn't believe the test result, as such, it's just . . . you know.
I'm a natural sceptic.
A questioner. 
I like evidence. Proof. Empirical measurements. Results. Graphs. Charts. Clap-o-meters. 


I like to SEE. 

Also, when you're puking your guts up several times a day, you feel permanently exhausted, your breasts feel as if they've been in the ring with Tyson Fury, you cry 15 times a day for no reason and you can't stand the smell of . .  anything any more, it's nice to know that there is actually a REASON for this Hell.
And a beautiful one too.

Also also, I really wanted Mike to see it. To believe. To be able to register this incredible thing in some way other than me telling him one morning that I pissed on a stick and bingo - TOTAL AND UTTER LIFE EXPLOSION. 

See, the thing is this: I've had three children already. This is his first. 
While this new baby is equally wonderful for BOTH of us, I have a very strong awareness of how MIND-BLOWING that first journey into parenthood is, how much it affects our whole sense of being, our existence . . . and our under-eye skin and bank balance. 
And I want to be sure, from day one, that he can experience this, in HIS OWN way, not my way, and go through this transition from 'bloke' to 'dad' fully

I often think that for dads, the whole experience of pregnancy must be very strange and, by default really, somewhat 'from the sidelines' at times. 
And so in as much as it's possible, I want Mike to be on the pitch with me, also trying desperately to field all the shit coming our way and score his own parenting goals - not watching from the stands. 

It's made all the more pertinent for us, by the fact that, in a series of cruel life events too sad and awful to comprehend, both of his parents have already died, far too young, and therefore this baby, this offspring of his - of ours - is his mother's and father's DNA passed on through him. 
He or she will be - in fact, is already - the closest genetic relative and the greatest sense of connection to the Universe, and to existence and a sense of human purpose, in a way, that he may ever have from now on. 

That means more to me than I can express, and much as he was so beautifully gracious in saying that he would be totally OK with it if I didn't want to go through the physical and mental mash-up of pregnancy, birth, child-rearing and head-sploding theme-park visits again, there was never a moment of doubt in my mind that if Nature allowed us, I would to do everything I could to give him the chance to be a parent too, to experience all the otherwise unimaginable wonder that brings, and to continue his own 'human line'.

And anyway. I want to have a child with HIM, because I bloody well adore him! I can't imagine anything happier for this second half of my life. 

So anyway. I would love the father of this child to be as close to this journey - as connected, involved and PART OF IT - as he can be, and wants to be. 
And that meant having warm jelly smeared onto my still bump-less tummy, and seeing . . . whatever was in there, in all its 6-week glory. 

So we booked in for a scan, at a local ultrasound place. 

I've never had a scan so early in pregnancy before, and wasn't quite sure what to expect. 
A mini mini mini mini baby, waving at me? *HELLO!!*
A tadpole? 
A seed with eyes? 
Maybe just some toes, and the rest then grows upwards from there?? (I honestly did study Science at Cambridge, by the way. It's quite depressing, really.)

I just knew that we needed to see it.
And see it, we did. Exactly as you can too, in the photo above. 


No baby. No tadpole. Just a tiny, weeny 6-week-old bundle of cells - BEATING!!!! ❤️❤️❤️
There is no 'heart' at this stage - just a TINY blob, throbbing
It's all because of calcium and sodium channels and voltage and stuff, and honestly, it is
absolutely bloody incredible.
The most incredible throbbing blob I've ever seen, in fact. And I've had some monster zits in my time. 

So there it was. The evidence. The proof. The mini mini mini us. The human line. 
We left, in silence. Parents in the making. Blown away by it all. 
Closer than ever. 


And it made all the vomiting, nausea, exhaustion and boob-ache (JUST!) worthwhile. 

https://www.instagram.com/fortyfortybaby/

I am growing a kidney bean

Body image, baby