My advice to first time fathers, and couples in general, when it comes to expert opinions and theories about determining the sex of your baby—take absolutely no stock in any of it. We heard the whole gamut as I blogged about before—the baby is active, so it must be a boy; the heartbeat is fast, so it must be a boy; mom-to-be is carrying the baby in this particular way (high, middle, or low) so it must be a girl (or boy). We’ve heard and read all sorts of allegedly sound theories, but the real truth is that none of it is reliable.
But we had more to go on than just old wives’ tales. Our own doctor, after last month’s appointment, chimed in with her confident proclamation that it’s a boy. She even went as far as saying she would put money on it in Vegas. Well after that assessment, how could we not be influenced? She is the expert! Ever since then we’ve been eyeing boys’ clothes and boy-themed bedding sets, while vainly trying to keep an open mind.
Good thing no money changed hands.
The enormously anticipated second ultrasound appointment put the kibosh on all of the rampant speculation. As we both silently expected to hear the confirmation announced at any minute, the tech dropped a surprise: IT’S A GIRL. Cue the sound effect of the record player needle being scratched against vinyl.
A girl? Not a boy? The tech explained the evidence, and it just goes to show that medical science gets to have the last laugh. My instant reaction was not disappointment (I truly didn’t care either way), but rather stunned excitement. Visions of car seats, blankets, and onesies went from shades of blue to pink. Wow, a girl. Daddy’s little girl, I love the sound of that.
She’s Daddy’s active, rambunctious little girl too.
Arms and legs flailed to and fro in the gray, splotchy image. This girl wouldn’t stay still for ten seconds. An image of a foot appeared, a hand, a face, and profiles from opposite sides of the screen. She’s over here…now she’s over there. Cart wheels and somersaults were performed with ease. No wonder it was so hard to get fix on her the first time the doctor looked for a heartbeat. My wife had yet to feel anything but flutters so far, but we both anticipate a lot more as she continues to grow. The kicks will come, and there will probably be a lot of them.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Cats in the Cradle
If you’re familiar with the Harry Chapin song you know that it’s a lyrically poignant and touching song about fatherhood. If you’re not, then check it out and listen closely to the story about a father’s regret about not being around sometimes to watch his son grow up, and then later in the song he laments that his adult son has become just as unavailable as he was for quality time together.
I bring this up because of the eerie coincidence of hearing this song on the radio yesterday as I went to breakfast with my dad. The last few months for him have been a rough go health wise due to his treatment for prostate cancer. After 6 weeks of chemotherapy, which fortunately didn’t have too many side effects other than general fatigue, he concluded his treatment with surgery to implant radioactive seeds that will help shrink his prostrate and eliminate the cancer.
For my brother and me, it’s been nerve-racking to watch. All the while doctors have kept us optimistic and my dad has been in good spirits even through the latest surgical procedure. I took him to the doctor’s office and stayed with him throughout the four hour surgery and recoup time. And then yesterday we topped it off by having breakfast together.
All the while I’ve felt a reinforcement of how fortunate I am to have father like mine. There were times when I was little he would have to go off on business trips, much like the father depicted in the Harry Chapin song, but overall through the years he has been there and been very supportive and invested in my upbringing. I’ve come to understand how much of a rarity that is today amongst my peers. Absent fathers are in abundance, and some goes as far as being completely unavailable and betray marriage vows and the obligations of fatherhood.
I’m lucky that my dad never did. He was a devoted husband for over 50 years until my mom passed away last August. During our quality time he reminisced about some of the places around the world he had been with my mom and I could tell in his words just how much he missed her. But his role as father is still something he cherishes, and that night he called me to thank me for having breakfast with him and everything else I did to be by his side during his ordeal.
“I've long since retired, my son's moved away/I called him up just the other day/
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"/He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time/You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu/But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad/It's been sure nice talking to you"”
In my last blog entry I vented about poor examples of fathering and vowed not to be so negligent. While spending time with my dad it was reaffirmed how I have such a great role model to follow. I also want to make vow to spend more time him. It’s that kind of loving consideration that I hope my son or daughter takes with me someday.
I bring this up because of the eerie coincidence of hearing this song on the radio yesterday as I went to breakfast with my dad. The last few months for him have been a rough go health wise due to his treatment for prostate cancer. After 6 weeks of chemotherapy, which fortunately didn’t have too many side effects other than general fatigue, he concluded his treatment with surgery to implant radioactive seeds that will help shrink his prostrate and eliminate the cancer.
For my brother and me, it’s been nerve-racking to watch. All the while doctors have kept us optimistic and my dad has been in good spirits even through the latest surgical procedure. I took him to the doctor’s office and stayed with him throughout the four hour surgery and recoup time. And then yesterday we topped it off by having breakfast together.
All the while I’ve felt a reinforcement of how fortunate I am to have father like mine. There were times when I was little he would have to go off on business trips, much like the father depicted in the Harry Chapin song, but overall through the years he has been there and been very supportive and invested in my upbringing. I’ve come to understand how much of a rarity that is today amongst my peers. Absent fathers are in abundance, and some goes as far as being completely unavailable and betray marriage vows and the obligations of fatherhood.
I’m lucky that my dad never did. He was a devoted husband for over 50 years until my mom passed away last August. During our quality time he reminisced about some of the places around the world he had been with my mom and I could tell in his words just how much he missed her. But his role as father is still something he cherishes, and that night he called me to thank me for having breakfast with him and everything else I did to be by his side during his ordeal.
“I've long since retired, my son's moved away/I called him up just the other day/
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"/He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time/You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu/But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad/It's been sure nice talking to you"”
In my last blog entry I vented about poor examples of fathering and vowed not to be so negligent. While spending time with my dad it was reaffirmed how I have such a great role model to follow. I also want to make vow to spend more time him. It’s that kind of loving consideration that I hope my son or daughter takes with me someday.
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