No Coffee Needed

Whoa! Things just got 'real'. This pregnancy thing just sprinted from an idea to a very clear reality. I saw my baby waving at me this morning from Jenna's tummy... all before I had my first cup of coffee. (Pro Tip: Nothing wakes you up in the morning like the realization of self-created, tangible life.)

Jenna and I had the Big 20 Week ultrasound appointment this morning. We scheduled the visit for the first time slot of the day. I was fine with that. I'm an early riser. Being the perpetual Asian go-getter, Jenna worked for a couple of hours in the office and met me at the ultrasound clinic at 8am. I arrived a bit sleepy, caffeineless, but wearing a freshly ironed shirt. I thought that I had to put my best foot forward for such an important day. Jenna told me that while my shirt did look nice, my pants and shirt did not match at all. They can't all be winners, I guess.

Being the first customers of the day, we were quickly seen and ushered out of the waiting room. While Jenna got dressed into a robe in a changing room, I was left alone to explore my environment in the ultrasound room. I'm not sure what I expected, but for an room THIS important (I mean, I get to FaceTime with my child from the FIRST time) I felt the room should have been a bit more grandiose. I know for a fact that radiologists have deep coffers. It wouldn't have broken the bank to add some ferns, a red carpet, some stained oak paneling and maybe a fountain. Cards on the table, I could excuse the absence of a fountain. I own a tobacco pipe and multiple cardigans. Clearly I know that I have refined tastes. I'll leave it at this: the radiologists need to up their Life Changing Important Room game.

Shortly, Jenna and an overly talkative nurse entered the room. The nurse FaceTiming with our baby was named Jeter. She was not the future Hall of Fame shortstop, but a very short, white haired woman with a thick country accent. She fired up the ultrasound machine and squirted goo all over Jenna's tummy. According to Jenna, the goo was pre-warmed. Well played, radiologists.

When Jeter put the magic wand to Jenna's tummy, this is what we saw:

Yeah. That's the profile of a little face and a little nose. That nose might be the cutest nose ever made. Simply amazing. For the next few minutes, my mouth hung wide open. I don't think that I even smiled at first. It's simply the most amazing thing to see YOUR baby moving around on a massive LCD tv. That's a life that Jenna and I created. (Side Note: She has yet to thank me for that.) After the initial wave of Universe-condensing-all-importantness washed over me, all I could do was smile.

The baby wiggled around for the next hour or so. He/She was giving Jeter a tough time (which I absolutely loved). Jeter scanned for all of the obligatory check-list items.

Legs and Feet? Check.
Arms and Hands? Check.
Umbilical cord looking good? Check.
Heart, Kidneys, Bladder all there and working? Check.

Things that I have never considered worrying about suddenly hit me with great concern. Wait!?! We had to worry about having two kidneys? Oh, right. I knew to be concerned about the heart having all four chambers. Sure.

Something tells me that this theme of new and unthought-of worries simply appearing out of the fog will continue for... oh, let's say... the next 25 years. Ah, probably even longer. The overwhelming love and overwhelming concern all begin today; and I welcome it with open arms.

I am so proud of our little active baby. He/She is the right size. The right weight. The right amount of everything.

I am now left with the challenging task of figuring out the best way to print out the picture above on a massive scale. I need it to be big enough to wallpaper my entire cube at work.