The amount of goo that was used was really impressive.  Another random though was how deep she pressed the wand into her gut.  My wife had confided in me prior to the exam that she really had to pee, but didn’t have time, and now, as I watched that wand dig deep into her abdomen, all I could think was that I could probably bring a spare pair of shorts in from the car when she hosed the place down.  Fortunately (or unfortunately, if you were really looking for a great story to tell the kids one day) she’s got a bladder like a bear trap, so no such luck.

So on to the really cool part.  The thing was twitching all over the place!  I mean seriously, the fetus (it is apparently now the correct scientific term) was doing fetus sit-ups the entire time.  Also, the head and individual fingers on the hands were very evident.  The thing looked… well… alive.  Before it was a blob with a heartbeat.  This time, it was a fetus, with a head, jaw, hands … and the damn thing was doing crunches that would make Jilian Michaels proud.

The tech took a whole bunch of measurements of the spine.  It was very evident where the focus of the exam was, and that it was not just to provide pictures for me to fantasize about my future all star swimmer son/daughter.  The focus was primarily on the spacing and width of the spine.  This measurement, information about my wife and some blood tests will all combine into some magical risk number that indicates the risks of various chromosomal abnormalities.

I liken watching the tech work this machine to what it must be like to sit in the cockpit of a plane if you have no pilot training.  At first its wonderful and awe inspiring, but after a while, the pilots keep talking and twisting knobs you just want to know what the hell they are talking about, and if it is code for “we’re going to crash and die!”  You watch her take the measurements and, because the thing looks so, unhuman right now, you begin to really fear the worst.  I found myself thinking, “that must be a much larger spinal column thingy than is normal.. .that can’t be normal… what if it’s not normal… what will we do?  Will we still tell our friends?  Will we wait to tell our friends/family until we get more testing done?  And then I found that I couldn’t even look at the screen, for fear that my sudden mild panic attack would somehow be noticeable to my surprisingly calm wife.  In fact, she is downright joyous; smiling away in the face of certain (in my mind) doom.

In what turned out to be a very anti-climactic (thank god) ending to it all, the doctor came in, briefly read the numbers and pronounced that they were basically perfect.  He indicated that given my wife’s age (low risk) that he doubted there would be any problems, but that the full results of the blood tests would be ready next week.  In other words, looks good, keep cooking the kid, see you in a few weeks.

As I strolled back to my car I tried to self-evaluate my emotional performance in the doctor’s office.  Given the above description, I don’t think it’s any surprise that my grade was about a C.  Ok, maybe a D.  The ease with which I turned down the street to negative town was a bit alarming.  I won’t be too hard on myself though, how often is a man sitting in an OBGYN office, watching a fetus for the first time.  I think I qualify for a little slack.

At this point, I have to backtrack just a little.  My wife is, according to $38 dollars worth of home pregnancy tests, approximately 7 weeks pregnant.  We are both awefully sure that she’s pregnant, considering the missed period seems like a pretty good confirmation.  Still, the complete and total lack of any side affects whatsoever is, well, disturbing.  Neither of us ever thought we’d say it, but boy, we just wished she’s blow chunks, at least once… just to let us know it’s really real.  Well considering her digestive system refused to cooperate, we were now dependent on the doc and her wicked cool ultrasound machine to tell us once and for all that this deal is the real deal.

So as she moves the ultrasound around my wife’s belly, I can’t help but think, what a fascinating and completely new experience this is.  And, at this point in one’s life, as a 30 year old man, there really isn’t much that happens to you that is completely new.  Really think about it, at this point, the job, the commute, the sports teams, the house, everything gets very comfortable, very easy.  When you were young everything was new: girls, college, vacations, booze.  You spent your whole life moving from one new experience to the next, and then, ever so slowly, you grow up, and those new and wonderous experiences, get fewer and farther between.  This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it’s just an unavoidable fact of life.  The point I’m trying to make of course, is that, at that moment in time, standing in a doctors exam room, with my wife wearing no pants and a small crowd gathering round, looking at a 6×6 inch screen… well that was a new experience.  I’m fairly certain it is an experience that I will remember for the rest of my life.

The first observation I would make, as a newbee to the whole uterus thing, is how big it seems to be!  I really have no idea what the magnification on that ultrasound is, but WOW, that uterus looks big!  And of course, as she moves it back and forth, I know from my assigned reading, that sweet pea (that’s the name we have lovingly bestowed upon it) is really only about the size of a pencil eraser.  Thus, I’m doubting there will really be much to see.

I would love to say that I had some spiritual feelings when I saw what was, unquestionably an alien being in my wife’s uterus, but the only words that came into my feeble brain were, “holy shit!”  You could tell right away, immediately, that there was something alive in there, not because the silhouette bore any resemblance to any recognizable shape, but because the heart of an embryo (correct scientific terminology?) beats like mad.  Something like 140 beats per minute.  And the movement of that heartbeat is immediately visible, even to the feeble, non medical eye of a very out-of-place husband.

Call me crazy… but I think maybe… just maybe… he may be a boy.  Fingers crossed.