‘That’s our son’

I think the enormity of this is only just hitting home. Actually, it might have just been a comment at Emily about ‘my son’ in her..and then I realised how weird that sounded, purely because I’d never said that before. I’d never referred to ‘my son’…

And now I was in this position of knowledge thanks to the miracles of modern science. I’m almost getting blase about scans now as this is number 4 and they aren’t even longer than a can of coke (certainly not as long as a can of Stella…the big ones with 13.5% free..mmmm..beer). Upon reflection, it’s still a completely amazing thing but seeing the BOGOFs’ progress is almost like logging on to the internet and checking up on an eBay advert. Instead of updates to the auction price you get updates to lengths of major organs and the like…

BOGOF number two is being all coy so we are in this wonderful position of knowing that one is a boy and no idea on the other until the next scan. The usual mantra applies, ‘as long as they are healthy’ I am over the moon irrespective of whether they are boys or girls (and I really mean that). Of course though, I have nothing against girls and to have one of each would be that ‘ready made family’ in one go with the best/worst of both worlds! If it’s two boys though, wow…two potential little engineers to back me up with whatever ridiculous automotive proposition i come up with next. That said, I can see the fights over the Meccano and Lego already, purely from experience. My brother built an absolutely epic Lego oil rig that far out-resourced the contents of his Lego box and dramatically impinged on mine. It was probably 20% ‘turf war’ and 80% jealousy but, either way, it was slippers on so I didn’t stub my toes when I delivered the surprise, and devastating, running kick to smash it to pieces. And then I blamed him for losing my Lego pieces (don’t worry, retribution was swift in the form of a repeated stamping on the head to yours truly)

Before we got to the scan though we went to see the consultant anaesthetist to go through what the options are with regards pain relief during natural/induced/elected caesarean child-birth. Dr Murray opened the last page in Emily’s pregnancy notes to follow on from the paragraph that ended with ‘patient has experienced feinting’ to then find Emily on the floor feinting in particularly impressive fashion. I basically sat round like a lemon, partly because I was in a room with a trained doctor and partly because I know it’s just Emily feinting and not about to die. Still, it is a bit worrying at times but her night up before panicking about all the worst case scenarios that might manifest themselves during the scan probably didn’t help…

After Emily had finished inspecting the floor face first we took a visit to the NICU (Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit). You might be wondering why but with high-risk pregnancy (twins) it was suggested so that, should we end up in there, we are familiar with the surroundings and setup i.e Em won’t freak out. Personally I found the whole setup very reassuring, an incubator with half a mile of cabling, 3 monitor screens and 4 dozen flashing lights attached to it is a GOOD thing…I like technology at the best of times and to see it being used to such great effect, it was quite comforting. The staff who showed us round were great as well, they kept a lovely air of informality and cosyness about what is obviously a very stressful and demanding working environment. The level of care really stood out though..it was like their little home where they looked after and nourished tiny babies until they were big enough and well enough to be sent home.

The scan itself was quite relaxing once we had got to see the heartbeats and Emily could stop panicking about still-borns and the like. Of course, there is a risk of this and many other calamities at any point but, as a rational person that deals with data all day long and makes decisions based on this, maybe I can just put the statistics in perspective more than Emily.

We were planning a meal out at a local fave restaurant but due to tiredness on Em’s part and a lack of carbs, sugar and salt..we opted for a local pub meal instead. During the stroll there, I was already winding Emily up about whether the farmer over the back would mind BOGOF 1 firing his air-rifle over the field. I also asked her when she thought it was appropriate for him to have his first pint ‘daaahn the pub’ and when he should bring his first TWOC’d car (Taken Without Owners Consent – Stolen) home. ‘Ah, look at the love, he’s brought home his first nicked Ford Mondeo’. Emily then said she would get him taught how to torch cars and start on my long term project sports car. To add insult to injury she followed this up with, ‘Oh, he won’t need to bother, it’s already a wreck’.

You can’t beat a bit of chain-pub fodder, especially when the good lady and BOGOFs need quick, simple energy. Allow me to digress a second though, as tonight’s encounter with the staff involved a brilliant display of how not to sell something. The ‘something’ in question was a loyalty card which, with a quick bit of maths, get’s you a discount of roughly 3/10ths of eff-all should you dine there for the next thousand years. The lady trying to sell it came up with the amazing selling technique of ‘insult the pregnant customer’. Emily has a ‘Yummy Mummy in Training’ T-shirt and, to entice her to join the loyalty scheme, she got a slightly sympathetic but patronising look and the opening gambit of,  ‘hmm…you’re not looking particularly yummy mummy this evening are you? Bit tired are we?’. This was followed up with a cheery suggestion that she might like to sign up (and get her some commission) to this loyalty card.  If she had come up and said ‘you look rough as a shite dear, fancy getting me a bonus?’, this would only have been slightly less brutal in technique. Brilliant!

So, back home and with Em asleep before I even finished rearranging the pillows around her I reflected on another one of those life-changing days. It’s not the scan that amazes me the most or finding out the sex of one of the BOGOFs, it’s the fact that just 20 weeks ago there was just a few cells and now they’ve managed to multiply and arrange themselves into something totally resembling two human lives. That said, of the scans, I think it’s that seminal first scan that will stick with me the most as they were only the size of grains of rice but, after just 36 days from conception, they had visible heart beats….that was simply mind-blowing.

I do apologise, I’ve just realised, the above is all a bit profound for me, usual piss taking and sarcasm to resume at earliest opportunity…