I’m still slowly working my way through the idea that there’s a living, gurgling, farting little baby inside my wife, and I’m responsible for it.
We went to the baby doctor again yesterday and it was a pretty short visit. They didn’t take a gallon of blood from my wife, they didn’t make her strip down and wear a little paper gown, and they didn’t do anything to make me say, “ewww.”
Instead my wife just leaned back and the doctor took a device which looked like a small Fisher-Price karioky machine and stuck the microphone part up against my wife’s stomach. At first we just heard static. Then, as the doctor moved the microphone from left to right, we began to hear a fast and rhythmic swishing sound.
“Wow, what did you have for dinner?” I ask my wife.
The doctor, now wise enough to ignore me, explains, “That’s the baby’s heart beat.”
We all listen for a few seconds. It’s an interesting, very reassuring sound when you first hear it. Perhaps even more than the ultrasound, the sound of a heart beat is a very concrete example of… well… the idea that I’m going to be a father and my wife is going to be a mother and our lives are going to change forever.
We listen to the heartbeat for a few more moments and then the doctor pulls the microphone away and says, “Everything seems normal so far…”
It’s all music to my ears.
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oh I loved listening to that..
Glad to hear it’s all going tickety-boo. Can’t wait for the story of the birth. Although do remember to leave your wife some dignity.