First Doctors Visit

Lately, life has moved pretty rapidly for the Yoders. Being the man of the house, I have found it necessary to make adjustments now that my roles have shifted. I have had to resurrect some of my cooking skills I had as a bachelor. In doing so, I have gained a deeper understanding of my father. While growing up, us kids would look forward to the rare nights when Mom would be away. Not to knock Mom at all, it just meant Dad would cook his specialty: fried baloney sandwich! Yeah, thanks for that Dad. Though very yummy to my youthful taste buds, I now understand that it was the ease of preparation that motivated my father. It seems the apple has not fallen far from the tree. I have eaten ham sandwich five out of the last seven days. And today to mix it up, I fried it.

Stephanie has had her sick days, but they have been nothing close to the infamous week of non stop morning sickness. She has been able to function at work fine, then come home and crash on the couch watching Friends until 8:30. Then off to bed.

My Dude You're Going to be a Dad book tells me today was a big milestone. We had our first checkup with the midwife. Her name is Amy. Long ago, I determined that I would not be a passive husband during this entire pregnancy, sitting tired and unengaged at the back of the office while the women discussed the health of my wife and child. So I made sure I was present.

It was strangely easy to stay alert and focused while the RN fired a hundred questions at us about our medical, surgical, and genetic history. I resisted the temptation to one up Steph and the nurse on the number of surgeries undergone ( its five), but couldn't help thrusting my fist triumphantly in the air when I heard the news Steph was eligible to participate in a safe study that would result in us getting over $150 in gift cards and a free car seat for our baby! Cha Ching!

By far the most exciting moment came at the end of our meeting with the midwife. Listening for the baby's heart. Amy informed us that since we are only nine weeks along, the baby has to be in just the right position and its very unlikely that we will hear anything. None the less, when she put that microphone up to Steph's belly, I was on the edge of my seat in anticipation. I hadn't even realized I would be that nervous.

She felt around with the mic, there was a number of noises including a slow swishing sound that was Steph's heart. Then we heard something different, quick, loud, and clear: "taptap taptap taptap". My eyes were wide as saucers and we looked at Amy as she confirmed "That's your baby's heart." I still remember the sound and I could tap out the exact rythm right now. This experience totally blitzed me, otherwise I would have prepared my reaction better. "THAT'S MY BABY!" is what I was yelling at the top of my lungs inside my head. But I tried to be a conserved adult man. That inner battle didn't bode well for my outward expressions. Wide eyed, mouth closed, breathing heavily I just stared and muttered "no way..."

That was the climax of the visit. But before we left, the good doctor extracted enough vials of Steph's blood to last her a good week of joyous testing. I hear there are a lot of these visits yet to undergo, I don't think I can handle many more like today. My heart is full, praise the Lord.