We've been struggling this week.
I've been in bed mostly, with a nasty case of the gastro which made me very weak, dizzy, and gave me vertigo. Not funny. I couldn't do a thing. I would lie in bed, holding on to the wooden sides of the bed frames. Of course I knew I was in bed and wouldn't fall, but I couldn't help myself. At times, I thought I would faint. Seriously not funny. I spend three days in bed, with Hubby, Jessie and Oma and Opa coming to the rescue, looking after my house and family for me. I don't know what I would have done without their combined efforts... And many many thanks are due.
Hubby is stressed at work (all these stock marked crashes aren't helping, so can you all stop selling now please?). The stress gave him insomnia. The insomnia made his heart race.
Hubby went to the doctor, who agreed that it was stress. Still, best to do some basic tests on the heart - you never know. Two out of three kids with a disability, big mortgage, running his own small business - does sound a bit like a heart attack stuff, doesn't it?
But not to worry, all was fine. Blood tests fine, heart scan and monitoring fine. All hunky dory. Just stress.
When Hubby went for his last test, they hooked him up to some equipment. Suddenly he heard his heartbeat. And promptly burst into tears.
The technician came up to check if he was all right. Yeah, yeah, he was fine.
Thing is, when he heard his heartbeat, it took him straight back to that very first moment at the midwife's. That first time you hear your children's heartbeat. That very first real connection (well, for men, certainly. Most of us women have been heaving for a few weeks by then and have a real connection thank you very much). Hearing his own heart beat brought back the memory of hearing his children's' for the first time. And my lovely sweet husband burst into tears.
Ah, that sooo sweet, said the technician. Make sure you tell your wife
He told me.
And I'm telling all of you. Because it really is sooo sweet.