Reverb10: One Moment

I’m taking part in Reverb10, a time to reflect on the year that has past and manifest for the upcoming year. If you’re interested in participating, you can find out more about the project here.

December 3 Moment.

Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year.

Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

Was it the moment that I lost myself in the zen of skiing fresh powder on a bluebird day, zooming through trees and feeling my body carve effortless turns?

Was it the moment that I found myself scuba-diving a few feet away from a manna ray and a sea tortoise, floating along 60 meters underwater and discovering how much life I’d been missing?

Was it the moment that I stepped up on stage at Ignite Boulder 8 and made 800+ people in the Boulder Theater laugh at me with a story (complete with pictures) from my awkward teenage years?

Was it the moment when I sat in front of a campfire at 11,000 feet, looking up at an impossibly starry sky and basking in the glow of love, whiskey and friendship?

Nope. All the above moments were quite magical, but there’s one that stands out above the rest.

In a typical-looking medical examining room, I experienced a moment I’ll never forget. I was laying on a typical-looking examining table, looking at my husband sitting next to me. The nurse rubbed a cold and slimy gel on my stomach and rolled a small machine over. She began tracing a wand over my belly and at first, all we heard was a monotone static-like sound.

Then…there it was.

The moment when my husband and I heard our baby’s heartbeat for the first time. Knowing that there was something living inside me, something that we had created together, was the most alive I’ve felt this year.

*Although, to be honest, that skiing was really amazing.

**And no, not all of my Reverb10 posts will be about my pregnancy. At least, I hope not.