…it began. As we prepare for the birth of our second kid (Baby Brother DiMarco, due May 19th) I’ve been looking back on what was going through my head while we were waiting for the birth of Gummi (kid one’s pre-birth code name.) Step into the Time Tunnel with me as we journey way back to February 2009 (oh man, look how not gray my beard was!):
The first trip to the doctor’s office was a time of some trepidation. Despite the fact that we had multiple stick tests supporting our suspicion that the wife was indeed carrying, I still didn’t quite believe it. I was waiting for the official word from a medical professional before I started celebrating.
When we arrived at the office, The Wife was escorted into the back on her own at first. Apparently things were being done that I didn’t need to see or hear. I’d like to think this is the point where The Wife had conveyed upon her all the secrets of parenting, possibly through some divine light like the one that temporarily gave Bo Duke super powers on that one episode of Smallville. (Confession: I am currently watching that episode of Smallville.)
At least I hoped that was happening. I hoped one of us would know what this whole process was going to be about.
Turned out someone knew. That person is called the doctor.
After a few minutes (spent, ironically, reading up on all the newest birth control) I was called into the back where The Wife was already up on the table, but out of the stirrups, so I thought I’d missed all the fun. Turned out there was one more thing. The doctor pulled out the Doppler Weather Storm Tracker 6000 and held it up to The Wife’s stomach. The room filled with the sound of “THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD.”
Somewhere, a local TV station put up one of those damn weather warnings that take up a third of the screen and knock the HD feed off the air, but in that office it meant only one thing:
100% chance of baby.
End Time Tunnel trip, please watch your head as you leave the tunnel. Also: Hello. Thanks for having me.
