And just like in the movies, you can see the heart beating.
Yes, the fetus has a heart. It isn't just a mish-mash of cells that my body hasn't rejected yet. It's ALIIIIIIVE (cue images of Frankensteins Monster).
To be honest, I was really shocked. In a good way, of course. I know things are really grim around here, and this grim-ness is an honest reflection of how I am approaching this whole thing. I am just assuming everything is shit until proven otherwise! Today it was proven that our fetus, the little thing inside my body as big as a grape right now, is alive.
So.
The bebeh* is alive.
I don't mind too much that I feel exhausted every single minute of the day. I appreciate this too will pass. What I am sincerely hoping is that the penis/crazy sex dreams will stop, like, really soon. They can cease any time they like, in fact. Make of this confession what you will, but I think it's safe to say that my hormones are playing complete havoc with my brain.
And now to the obligatory ultrasound picture, where polite folks go 'Oh! Look at that! What a nice...blob you have there!'. Etc. I've never been very good at making heads or tails of these images, but the bean shaped thing with a lighter smudge around where the heart ought to be is in fact my progeny.
* The other day my eldest sister asked me if we were going to bring it up as 'anything'. Christian? Atheist? Satan worshipper? And I ses, 'Yes, lolcat'. My bebeh will believe in Ceiling Cat and Basement Cat, and will be taught that Caturday is a blessed day filled with cheezburgers. In fact, I wouldn't even mind too much if the bebeh was a lolcat. I think I can just make out some whiskers on that picture...
