It’s not a cheap date, but our pregnant dad loves a visit to the gynae.
It’s been two years almost to the day that we last visited the gynae’s office; more correctly, that I have visited. Despite the fact that it costs a small country’s food budget every time we go there I have to be honest, as a man, I do enjoy the experience.
There is something about a good gynae that lets me know my wife is in safe hands. For someone who is only watching the experience from the outside (i.e. not actually giving birth) it helps to have someone to relate to and explain what’s going on; and in a manly way. And “our” gynae, Bruce, is just that guy.
Monique is now just over 10 weeks in. The first time around when were expecting
Nicholas, we were incredibly cautious about waiting for that all important three month date before telling anyone that Monique was pregnant. This time around however we seem to have become more laissez-faire about the whole experience. The visit
This time around our first trip to Bruce’s office was with mixed feelings. It didn’t help matters that I had neglected to check my diary and had booked a haircut at exactly the same time as we were scheduled to check in on our number 2. Naturally I cancelled the haircut; my mistake was perhaps mentioning the double booking to my wife.
Only when I arrived at the hospital and was trying to hopelessly remember my way to the doctor’s rooms, did I feel a sense of dread. I was suddenly struck by the thought that there may not be a heartbeat and how unimaginably distressing that would be; that and of course that was always the chance of multiple births!
None of this had occurred to me until I was wandering around Vincent Pallotti babbling like a village idiot to a ward sister trying to describe my wife’s gynaecologist, because in my now acute state of nerves I had forgotten his name. I think I went for: ‘good looking chap and begins with a B’. She helped me nonetheless.
Monique had told me that morning she was feeling quite nervous about the appointment and I remember wondering why. If anything I was excited. We knew Bruce well and I personally was looking forward to some new pictures of a vaguely apparent ‘bean’ to adorn our fridge.
But second time around has doubled the ante. We knew what we were shooting for here. A perfect brother or sister
for our already perfect little boy. There was a lot more to lose now, should things not be right.
After finally finding Bruce’s rooms and making small talk about remembering exactly when the conception took place, and some more manly chat like the new scanning machine that he just had delivered, we got round to the important stuff. Seeing my child on the monitor
this time round hit me far more than I remembered last time. Then I suppose I had no comprehension what that 2.3 cm peanut could turn out to be. This time I knew what the eventual outcome 7 or so months down the line would be like and what that outcome could grow to be. The personality, the love and joy that is all contained in that small black and white picture.
My son tells us that the scanned picture of his sibling looks like a puppy. But what does he know. It’s only his first time round this block. What’s your relationship with your gynae like? And how did you feel when you first saw a scan of your baby?
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