Here goes for part two of our baby story.
Our first visit to the Dr. was a success. It was awesome! I was just glad to get in the door. I'm sure every first-time expectant father feels this way at some point in time. I mean, you've heard of this "Lady Dr." all your life, but have you ever been there? Your wife goes for checkups and stuff, but it remains a mystery to you. Perhaps you have even, upon a rare chance, darkened the door of the waiting room. Or you've even spoken with the receptionist clad in unusually bright and busy toucan laden scrubs. Don't let her fool you though, she is only a gatekeeper and her colorful garments only a distraction to keep the secrets on the inside and you on the out. The "real" nurse is the one that comes to the door and calls your wife's name.
When this happens on any other day you continue to thumb through the pregnancy magazine, but on this special day you look at your wife for the cue as if to ask, "Is it ok if I come too?" Swallowing the lump in your throat, you follow her like a leashed chimp and under your breath you whisper, "Lay low, keep your mouth shut"... Quoting the scripture, "Fear not, for I am with thee."
Much to my surprise though, I found my imaginings of sterile bright corridors filled with the sounds of women in the throes of intense labor to be quite unfounded. In fact, the hallway was lined with scenic paintings and tables topped with froo froo fringy leopard printed lamps. There was no screaming, on the contrary, I heard the peaceful sound of soft 80's rock. I think I even heard Delilah telling me that everything was going to be allright. I felt comforted. And, as if that wasn't enough, while they were doing Jen's bloodwork I sat in a cushy (also leopard printed) chair beside a table overflowing with issues of Golf Digest and Field and Stream. I thought to myself, these guys are good. They have really done their market research.
Finally, the nurse called us back to the sonogram room. I think from this point to the time we stepped back out into the lobby was seriously like 3 minutes and 28 seconds. She turned the lights out and we saw a little blob on the screen. She said, "Here's the baby's head." With a couple of clicks and strokes on the keyboard she says, "Your baby is due June 25th, weighs approximately 2.3 ounces, is developing well, all of its vitals are great, it will graduate high school with a 4.0 and have a small freckle on the back of its left ear that they will nickname choclate chip.... Oh and here's the heartbeat... squish squish squish squish... allright, looks like we're done here." She flips the light on. "You can get dressed the doctor will be in shortly congratulations!"
What!? Done here!? Seriously!? Yeah, I heard the heartbeat, but only like four of them. I want to hear more. No such luck. The doctor was pretty much the same. Great guy, funny, but a fast talker. All I remember is, "Hey, pregnant huh? You know how this happened right? (haha) Everything looks good. Any questions? Congratulations! Here's the date of your next appointment."
You mean I paid $40 bucks for that? Thanks Doc. At least we got a couple cool blobby black and whites of Baby Mac out of the whole deal. I'm sure by the end of this whole process we'll get more than our money's worth.
Sorry to be so long...