It’s a habit to go about our days with the routine that life has instilled in our bones. For some, more regimented than others. For the lucky, we rebound and flex and adapt and chug right on through without missing a beat, or maybe sometimes skipping a beat. But just one or two before we’re back on track again. This is life, equal parts survival and pleasure shaken violently like oil and water into a happy cohesion, but always able to be separated again if let be. And adding to the menagerie of our mix, we somehow have found ourselves indulged in new firsts.

Firsts such as… the first positive pregnancy test, and then the 4 more that followed (you know, just to be sure). Scott didn’t trust the digital one thinking that maybe the “not” light was broken. So off he went for a combo pack of 3 – not the digital kind but the ridiculously difficult to decipher and leave you with self-doubt kind.  You laugh now…

The first purchase for the nursery, sheep skin rugs to encumber our little babe. I just had to have them…

… and the irresistible booties to venture home from the hospital in the February cold in.

First gifts to welcome us into this adventure of parenthood.

Our first ER visit. Thankfully a false alarm of the growing pains of a rapidly expanding uterus.

Seasons change and bodies change and as we grow into our adult spirit of life, I also find my little belly growing with it’s own little spirit inside. And just as so, we go about our days and adapt to the changes that we will continually evolve with over the coming months. There are doctor appointments and check-ups, blood work and ultrasounds, bills (oh, the bills) and planning, and then… then nuzzled within these firsts we have now adapted seamlessly into our days are the sacred moments that rise to the top.

Moments such as… the first time, together, seeing that little peanut nestled inside of me, at just 11 weeks and already a beautiful little babe. Incredible doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Reactions of telling family and friends our news. Our big, big, take-it-in-and-let-it-settle news. There were definitely moments. And one that I think goes down in the books for both Scott and I was the reaction of my brother, Brad. In an instant he grabbed on to me and locked me into the strongest embrace I’ve ever felt. As he laughed, he cried. And so we sat there, grasped together, laughing and crying and not letting go until we hear Scott pipe up from the other side of the table “Hey, what about me?” And then we laughed. It was a moment I will hold deep in a secret little pocket of my heart forever. And thinking about it makes me tear up all over again. It was beautiful and so full of incredible love. There were so many moments like these, revealing in a moments time the love and friendships we are lucky enough to be surrounded by. If it weren’t so good, it would be overwhelming.

A moment on an adjusted Friday morning, pushed back an extra 45 minutes to take care of 3 happy-go-lucky dogs and an early doctors appointment. It was an adaptation of the routine, yet sat easily between the checklists of the usual. And there I laid on the doctors table, dress hiked up to my chest and a paper blanket draped across my lap. The cold gel smeared across my belly and the quiet of the room suddenly was broken. Mush, mush, mush. So steady, so sweet like little bits of honey. It was like magic, and the drive of my daily routine came to a screeching halt. It was the sweetest sound that I have ever heard. The heartbeat of our babe. And the revolution of my day changed in it’s orbit for that moments time. This, was not part of my routine. This was special. Deserving of it’s own mark, it’s monumental milestone, it’s own selfishly devoted moment.

And there was last Sunday night, just like any other night commiserating our weekend as it drew to an end. Only this night I received an extra slather of Palmers Cocoa Butter. As I took my slippery slide of a body and nuzzled down into the covers, my big spoon pulled into place behind me. Scott laid his hand on my tummy and in silence only broken by our breaths, we concentrated. And then we felt the nudge. We felt the babe. So faint, almost doubting the tumbling movement and passing it off as a tummy grumble. But in our hearts we knew that the 3 inches of growing love was tumbling around as our hearts raced for our family of three. It was a moment in my book of firsts that I will never forget.

And in these first of firsts, I take the time to let these moments separate as they settle. To let less be missed and more to find it’s own place in the hierarchy of beats skipped, defining them as these moments. And the silent reminder of my bump to stay present on this journey. To be present.

 It’s only just begun, and now is right on time.