Email me


Journal entries:




Sign up for email notifies:




Good Faith, Jane Smiley

I'm finding this slow going so far. Maybe I just want to read about horses in her books, or something.

Check out:

Just try not to watch ALL FOUR MINUTES.


Part of the card I made for JB on Valentine's Day. Note both my artistic vision AND technical drawing skills. I know. Am genius.

Friday, March 4, 2005

I had my first prenatal appointment this morning, and I'd called ahead to the doctor's office to see what the chances were of hearing a heartbeat today. I wanted JB to be there if they were going to bust out the Doppler, but otherwise I figured he could skip the experience of watching me get up close and personal with a speculum.

"No, sorry," said the first person who answered the phone. "You won't hear the heartbeat until 17-18 weeks." But that's not what the INTERNET says, was my confused internal response. Because I'd almost always rather go the Magic Eight Ball route (Try Again Later) than argue, we called a second time and were told, presumably by a different and less crack-addled receptionist, that the doctor would give it a shot - but at 10 weeks, no promises.

My idea was for JB to wait in the lobby while I had the necessary poking and prodding done, then once the giant megaphone was pressed to my belly or whatever, we'd call him in. This plan fizzled immediately once we saw other couples going in together. "See, he went with her," JB kept hissing at me. "Come on, don't make me be the only guy out here by himself."

Fine, I said. I'll just have you leave the room if I feel uncomfortable. "No problem, babe," he said, putting his arm around me.

Not five minutes later, Mr. I-Don't-Want-You-To-Feel-Uncomfortable had an enormous grin on his face as the nurse gently asked me if I could "manage a urine sample." As I opened my mouth to say yes, my husband blurted out "Probably even a BIG one!"

"What?" he said innocently, as the nurse left and I glared at him. "You said you had to go."

I should have banished him back to the waiting room and its dog-eared copies of Parenting Today, but at that point - well, in for a penny, in for a pound. He stayed with me while the nurse explained the different places we'd need to go for bloodwork and the upcoming ultrasounds, and he kindly refrained from bursting into laughter when I fearfully whispered "the...fetus's finger?" when the nurse told me about a fingerprick blood test we could have done. He stayed for the appearance of our doctor, and the subsequent pelvic exam, which was thankfully brief, but sadly still included an internal howdy from that freaky mascara wand they scrape your girl parts with.

"Now, there's a strong chance we won't be able to pick anything up yet," the doctor warned us as she got out the Doppler instrument. "I don't want you to feel too disappointed if that's the case." As she pressed the monitor against me, I tried to relax and become very Zen, but all we were hearing were whooshes and weird glorpy sounds. "That's your intestine," she said, and I have to tell you, I just burst into tears, because my god, nothing - NOTHING! - had prepared me for the overwhelming emotional reaction to hearing my very own digestive system!

Just kidding. If I was going to cry over my GI tract, I would have done it last Saturday after we brought home that Papa Murphy's take-n-bake pizza. Hoo, boy.

She prodded some more, and I stared at the ceiling, and it seemed pretty clear we weren't going to hear anything this time. I tried not to feel bad, tried to think about the upcoming ultrasound which is going to happen in the next 3 weeks, and just like that - there it was. This fast, strong sound, and the doctor caught my eye and nodded, and there it was, the heartbeat of this tiny creature inside me, alive, alive-o. Just for a few unbelievable seconds, and suddenly it was over and she was putting everything away and congratulating us and leaving the room and JB and I looked at each other and it was clear what the moment called for, and the clap of our high-five was so loud... man, I bet even the baby heard it.

<- back ::: next - >