A Tiny Heart

"It's alive!"

That is what my doctor proclaimed with a laugh as a water-like 'whooshing' came through the static and surrounded me.

"whoosh-whoosh whoosh-whoosh whoosh-whoosh"

I immediately forgot my carefully drawn up list of questions, and the indignity I always feel talking to someone who had just shown me the business end of a speculum.

"Whoosh-whoosh whoosh-whoosh whoosh-whoosh"

I made a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob that came from somewhere deep in my stomach causing the doctor's hand to slip.

"whoosh-whoosh whoosh-woo. . . "

I vaguely remember him rattling off some numbers immediately followed by the word 'normal' as he wiped the gel from his equipment and put it away.

I barely remember leaving the office, or going for dinner, or telling friends and family about what we'd heard by trying to recreate the whooshing with my vocal cords.

It's real now.

I have, at the very least, if not a baby, then a tiny heart growing in my abdomen.