Eight Weeks Pregnant Today

This is what Sprout is looking like this week.

This is what Sprout has me feeling like. Remember the scene in Men in Black where they pop open the dudes head to discover there is a little alien inside controlling everything that the body does? Now, make the alien Sprout, and instead of in the head make it my uterus….. Yup, that’s what we've got going on. An alien controlling my body deciding when I can sleep, eat, pee, feel bloated, and nauseous.

Seriously though, we are so excited to be at the 8 week marker! This week thanks to the little developed hands, feet, arms, and legs the baby  begins moving. Although it will be a very long time still before these movements can be felt by me and even longer before Adam will be able to feel them.

And now, the sad part of this post. On July 1, 2014 my grandma passed away due to failed small intestines. She never woke up from the surgery they attempted to perform to remove the icky stuff. When they got inside they discovered things were actually so far gone that she only had hours left. It was such a shock to have the doctor come out of the OR still in his scrubs and sit my Dad, Mom, sister and I down for that conversation.

So, many people gathered at the hospital. Mom, Dad, Adam, Jessica and Nick, Rachel, Alyse, Sidney, my Aunt Debbie and myself. We were all gathered in her room in ICU saying out goodbyes when a nurse came in with a Doppler to check my grandma’s heartbeat. She left the Doppler sitting on the bed as they would be coming in frequently to use it. My Aunt was the first person to look at the Doppler and then at me and then quickly everyone else in the room joined in on her thoughts.

I was against it. It didn't seem appropriate for some reason. Everyone basically begged me to let Jessica (my sister who is a nurse) try to find Sprout’s heartbeat with the Doppler so Nana could hear it before she passed. Finally I consented and everyone stood around quietly holding their breath waiting for it.

And then there it was. It sounded kind of like butterfly wings fluttering against a microphone. It was faint, and fast, and swishy.

And Nana went. The end of one heart beating and the start of a new one.

Oddly poetic.