Eight Week Scan

Hey guys,

So we went for an eight week scan yesterday.  Eight weeks is a bit early but because of the trouble we had last time we get to go for an early scan this time.  The appointment was at 2pm so we headed in to town around 1pm.  For some reason my wife decided to drive like a nine year old – tailgating but refusing to pass, braking extremely late, taking ages to get off the line once the light turned green.  Now I know how my grandfather felt when he took me driving at 16.  How he stayed so quiet all those years ago is beyond me.  Anyway, we got in to town and had to walk a few blocks to the hospital.  I could tell she was pretty anxious, mainly because she was being kind of a bitch.  I’m pretty even-keel so I wasn’t worried but I tried to put myself in her shoes.  I decided to do most of the talking and basically just tried to make her laugh.  I did this by commenting on all the douche-bags wearing scarves despite the fact that it was like 20 degrees outside.  Maybe those two fluffy, white clouds in the sky had them spooked.

Once we get to the hospital we do the usual; check-in and grab a seat in the waiting room.  There are like 12 women in there so I figured we could be waiting a while.  She was pretty quiet, reading her phone.  Fortunately we were called after about 10 minutes.  We were led to a room with a bed, an ultrasound machine and a couple of flat screen TV’s.  (Christ this is taking ages…) Nurse, gel, wand thing.. Heartbeat.  Yup, we got a heartbeat.  Again, I barely react.  Neither does she.  I think the last experience has hardened her a little.  I squint and stare at the TV, tilting my head like that Ewok in Return of the Jedi.  I’m really more interested in the science of it all but I can tell that my wife is nervous.  As if she’s going to get some kind of bad news.  Like the heartbeat was a false reading or the ultrasound machine was broken or something.  To try to break the tension I ask a jokey question about the sex and whether or not I should go out and buy a soccer ball or a tea set.  “Girls can play soccer too ya know” barks the nurse.  Fuckin bitch.  It was a joke to try to keep my has-been-super-anxious-all-day wife from freaking out any more than she already was.  I’ll admit it wasn’t the best joke I’ve ever told but it was a joke none the less.  Any moron would have realized that.  I hope you enjoy your boring, humourless life you grumpy cow.

The grumpy cow then prints us some pictures which don’t really look like anything (and for all we know are stock photos given to everyone) and we head off.  As we’re walking back to the car my wife proclaims “The baby wants ice cream”, so we go for an ice cream.  She’s in a noticeably better mood which is fine by me.  In retrospect it may have had something to do with the fact that she then dragged me around a shopping mall for over an hour, looking at shit she had no intention of buying.  Needless to say I drove home.  Mother’s were phoned, girlfriends were texted and the (possibly stock) ultrasound photos were immediately hung on the fridge.

I’ll keep you guys posted on how the next scan goes, it’s scheduled for about four weeks from now.

 

Talk soon,

John