In a pre-orchestrated and specifically timed “press” release, this is the photo of the week.
You might notice that it’s dated a couple of weeks back, but it just so happens that my wife already had plans to meet her mom today for lunch, so she wanted to wait and tell her in person.
For me, my parents are so far away, this seemed like the perfect platform to let them in on the news. You know, pictures are better than phone calls, right? I think so.
This is our first. Well, sort of…
See, the only subject more taboo than personal finance that I’ve come across ever in my life is miscarriage.
Few talk about it. Even the doctors get all hush-hush like it’s a big secret or something. I’m not sure why that is, but it’s made out as if it never happens to anyone.
Simply not true — we’ve had a few. More than one and less than five.
Use your imagination.
Essentially, it was enough to make two pink (or blue) lines on a stick a rather uneventful occurrence in our house, you know, it didn’t give me that “Oh Crap! I’m screwed!” feeling or that “Sweet! This is going to be awesome!” feeling either.
Hopeful but indifferent… I think that’s a pretty good description of my feelings…
The last couple were within a few months of one another — really, making it almost a routine. Yep, you’re pregnant again. Maybe this one will stick? We’ll cross our fingers…
Remember that blood test that I had a few months ago? Yeah… that was to see if we were, well, just broken or first cousins or something…
Actually, I’m not 100% sure what the point of it was, but the good news is that everything came back as it should have.
There wasn’t/isn’t any thing wrong with us.
And now this is the result.
I’m pretty excited.
Not as excited as I probably should be since we’ve had a few disappointments in the recent past, but I havta say, it was pretty freaking cool seeing an alien like creature dancing around on that black and white monitor.
This picture kinda sucks — I wish they’d given us a DVD or something because the video was really funny. Legs kicking, arms flailing… It was like a poorly executed YMCA dance.
My wife claims that she can’t feel anything, but if I had something the size of a StarWars figure rocking out to the Village People inside of me, I like to think that I’d be able to tell…
It was also funny how, when the doctor came in (after 15 minutes of us sitting in the dark wondering if he was ever actually going to come in — I love being left in the dark. Literally…), without even looking at me, he asked my wife if I was the “support partner”…
I don’t know, I guess they see a lot of people who aren’t married in there these days, and that’s fine, but I still think it would have been a safe assumption to at least ask if I was the father, if not, the husband. Or maybe even just look at me?
But “support partner”? C’mon…
I was almost offended by the political correctness of the whole thing. It bordered on rude. Needless to say, it was awkward when it didn’t really need to be.
I mean, really, picture this: Two people, one male, one female, roughly the same age, at an ultrasound appointment…
Is it really a stretch to think that they might be the prospective mother and father?
I should hope not.
Anyway, with all of the swings and misses we’ve had on this front, the best news is that we’re already *very* prepared for this.