Temporary Nomad

The first ultrasound picture.

Helen and I are pregnant! Sure, she gets to do most of the work by herself, and she gets to feel the kicking from the inside. But I figure it’s a team effort.
A few weeks ago we had the pre-14 week ultrasound. Anyone who’s been near someone who’s had one knows that you’re supposed to go in with a full bladder, which helps the imaging somehow. When I came back from the office early to pick Helen up and take her to the imaging centre, she had drunk her litre of water and was already feeling like she’d like to get the process over and done with as soon as possible so she could let it out again. We arrived in good time for our appointment, and sat around for a while. Long enough for her to get quite uncomfortable. Other patients came and went. Soon it was long enough for her to get quite flustered.
When it was twenty minutes past our appointed time, she got to the point where she had to run off in desperation to the ladies room to relieve the pressure. Imagining that was the end of our chances for a successful ultrasound, I ran to the desk to tell them what was happening, and a nurse went in after her. It seemed, though, that she’d managed to relieve only the overpressure. (I was impressed.) I concentrated on being supportive and calming for her.
Time went by, and more patients came and went. Helen pushed herself to the limit a number of times, each time relieving a little of the pressure. For the first forty-five minutes I remained supportive and calming. But this was getting ridiculous, and eventually I started getting agitated myself. It wasn’t until an entire hour after our appointment that, while Helen was again in the toilet, they called for her. By then the suffering was too much, I was angry, and I was going to have words with them. I followed Helen into the ultrasound room, and in the brief moment I spent focussing myself the operator placed the ultrasound probe onto Helen’s exposed tummy. There was instantly an image on the screen, and I could clearly see our baby. It was magical. It was a real person, and it was tossing and turning and kicking and moving. It was alive. In that instant I forgot all about my anger, and I was transported.
Transformed, into a parent.

The baby – sucking its thumb?

Image credits: Burnside War Memorial Hospital Medical Imaging (Ultrasound)