speed up

Fast-forward 38 days. Very, very fast.

But here’s one very slow, painfully still moment: December 4th. I can only liken it to the day of some big exam, the one a whole grade, the entire semester, a major scholarship, one’s college education hinges on. Except it was bigger.

December 4th had the potential to be either the best or the worst day of my life. Of our lives, me and the Missus. We’re at the hospital for her first evaluation and, if it can show anything, for an ultrasound. (Or, er, a more invasive camera — didn’t come to that, thankfully.)

I had an ultrasound used on me before; when I had alarming pains in my side, I was whisked to the Emergency Room and prodded under the ribcage in case I was having a gall bladder attack. With, perhaps, the nicest technician ever operating the device, the Missus and I had a much more positive experience. Particularly when a little bean appeared on the screen with a flickering sac pounding at an estimated 178 beats per minute.

The tech wiggled the cursor at the bean’s image on the screen. “There’s its head. And its little bottom.”

Our bean had a bottom. Our Something had a heartbeat. Worst day of my life averted.

The tech checked with the doctor as to whether a second opinion was needed. Nope. She relayed to us that the doctor just said, “That’s a cute baby.”

(I imagine the doc was being a little tongue-and-cheek. Truly, Something was about the size of a bean, and it lacked any facial features to be categorized as cute. But, for an embryo, Something was aces!)

Before we moved on to meet with the Nurse Practitioner, the Doctor, and the rest of the practice, the Missus waved goodbye at the monitor. “See you again soon, little one!” I had to reminder her that the “little one” was coming with us, that it was in her. She was faintly embarrassed, but it’s something I like to tease her about on occasion; she teases me about how I kept repeating, with some tears in my eyes, “Strong heartbeat. Strong heartbeat.” Proud Papa already, just for having a heartbeat.

(A strong one, dammit!)

Bit of a blur since then. First, there was who to tell — and when. It was important that Missus’s mom (call her Mum-Mum) get the news live and in-person, not by phone. We would be seeing her for Christmas after a 7-hour drive south. The idea was that she would be first with my parents quickly to follow upon our return…

…but I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t handle it. We had to lie, we had to obfuscate, and we had to bottle up all our excitement and fear as we lay in wait. To tell one person would not only be to open the floodgates but also to endanger Missus’s employment and do our parents a disservice.

But I couldn’t wait. Nor, it turns out, could Missus. And, frankly, neither could Athena.

My best friend and his wife, after many long years of trying, finally had their first baby, codename Athena. And so, on the carride to welcome Athena into the world, we also spilled the beans on our bean Something. Everyone was very, very happy.

So was my Mom & Stepdad when we told them; so was Mum-Mum and her Hubby when we told them; and — with some baited breath and personal neurosis going into it — my Dad and Stepmom were thrilled, too. This is going to be a much-loved Something.