Beep and Beats

The trip to the OBGYN didn't have any horrifying moments. There was no urgent news nor pop quiz.

I sat in the waiting room while Becky was weighed and measured. The flat screen was showing a goofy CNN medical channel with Sanjay Guppta as the host. The big ad they kept running was for a birth control ring. What was the point of advertising that to me? Why not also throw in a new pattern for arranging deck chairs on the Titanic?

The wait for the doctor was pretty damn long inside the examination room. I came up with the worst idea for a website "How Hot is my Pancreas?" Becky's hormones have gone into overdrive. I want to ask the doctor if there's an "Don't Bite Joe's Head Off" pills that he can prescribe. And they're free if they come in a generic.

He breaks out a strange little tape recorder looking thing and lets me somewhat hear the Butterbean's heartbeat. All sounds normal. Although I can already tell the kid is more driven and intense from the pace.

Afterwards we make another appointment. The lady asks if we want a boy or a girl. and I basically say it's going to be a boy. She says that gender is up to the kid. Which I respond, "My dad laid down the law as a kid and he's getting it from me." We laugh. But I've decided that a girl is too much. I don't want to have to worry about accessorizing the kid.