So we finally are back from the visit to the doctor's office. Dawn and I arrived at the OB factory promptly at 10:30. There were at least ten people in the waiting room of the large baby consortium. Multiple doctors, nurses, billers, schedulers, attendants and funtionaries milled about beyond the smoked glass windows - the left arm not having the slightest clue what the right arm wasn't doing.

Though "our ultrasound" (a pleasant euphemism, no weird jelly on my belly) was scheduled for 10:30 and consultation with doctor at 11:00, at 11:30 we were still sitting in the waiting room with the other sheep. I walked up to the magical window and very quietly but with unmistakable resolve mentioned that we had already been there an hour, that I had taken off work to be supportive, that we weren't even in the door yet, and nobody seemed to be the least bit concerned about this, other than us. The receptionist blamed the ultasound woman and said she was just the messenger. I suggested I didn't much care who was to blame, but that making patients wait a full hour before then even BEGIN the process was discourteous at best.

We were in the ultrasound room five minutes later watching the shadowy body parts of our tiny 14-week-old pre-person. Besides not wanting to know this time around - we think - it was also too early for the little gender parts to show up, so this was basically to make sure everything was where it should be, nothing was where it shouldn't be, and make sure all systems were go.

The mini-dude or -dudette was thrashing around like a traffic cop, waving and gesticulating, heart beating loud as thunder - suddenly the whole operation went from concept to concrete, from abstract to specific. Oh yeah, this isn't just about a cranky expanding wife, there's something actually going on in there, "something" that in just under six months (still seems like a hell of a long time) will have a name and be pooping and breathing and gurgling all cutely and stuff.

We stalked into the ultrasound room frowning, fists clenched, and drifted out (they count on this, you know) with moony grins on our goofy faces, sedated by the reality of our budding creation - that's why they do the ultrasound first.