The day of our twelve week scan has been marked on the calendar almost since day one. My wife has sworn by her dates and her math so adamantly that she has mapped out the entire nine months of this pregnancy down to the finest of details, whilst I’m over here wondering if I can get away with wearing the same shirt for yet another day. After conducting a reluctant sniff test I give myself the all clear, however, my wife’s steely gaze tells me to abort this plan immediately.
The morning did not start positively. My wife woke me eagerly at 8am (EIGHT AM!) Bright eyed and bushy tailed and almost on the brink of song. It was as if I’d awoken next to Snow White. It was horrible. That kind of attitude before the proper administration of caffeine is the mark of a true psychopath. Even Ava was not best pleased with her morning wake up call, strolling into the living room with an expression of equal anger and confusion, throwing her mother nothing but shade and giving me a look that spoke a thousand words.
“You need to speak to your wife, Phil. I’m the one who gives the wake up calls around here,”
Our ultrasound appointment was not scheduled until 10:10am, however, in my wife’s wisdom she insisted we arrived thirty minutes early as we may be seen sooner. By this time I was enjoying my morning coffee which softened the impact of such careless optimism.
“Early?” I scoffed to myself. No patient in the history of the NHS has ever been seen early.
Arriving at the Luton and Dunstable Hospital, I was pleased to see we had arrived exactly on time. The place was already buzzing as usual as we strolled down the long and winding corridors. My wife strode out ahead of us with the kind of speed and determination I haven’t seen in her since they held an Elephant meet and greet at the zoo, leaving myself to follow behind, trying and failing to convince our daughter that this was the hospital and not the airport as she had come to think.
“Go on the plane?” She yelled excitedly “Go Disneyland?”
To my surprise, we were not left in the waiting room for long before we were called in for our appointment. It was a fairly new experience for myself, even for the second time around I had missed practically everything but the birth of our daughter the first time. We watched our little one wriggle around with their arms and legs flailing in all directions, it was a pretty incredible experience. Even seeing their little heart pounding away on the screen was something I’d never noticed before. For the first time it didn’t feel like I was looking at a vegetable, but our future son or daughter. To think, come the time of our next ultrasound, we may be discovering the gender of this new addition to our family. Whilst my wife has her heart set on a son and Ava insists she is going to have a sister, I remain open to both possibilities. On the one hand it would be great to have a son to “carry on my legacy” and all that, whilst on the other, I have so many cute girls names in mind. What’s a guy to do?
With the ultrasound technician issuing a clean bill of health for our little one, we couldn’t be more grateful for a healthy growing baby. The road may still be a long one with many bumps and turns awaiting, but as for now there is much joy to be had in the Randall household.