Mike's Marathon Blog

I’m 28, so I’ve only had a few ‘big’ moments in my life thus far. I graduated college, got married, ran a few marathons. BFD. You pretty much know beforehand the outcome of all these events. I’ve been to graduations before mine, I knew what to expect. Finishing a marathon is more of an accomplishment than anything. Extremely satisfying, yes, but once you cross the finish line, the happiness and triumph is completely overshadowed by exhaustion, knee pain and bloody toenails.

Weddings are a bit more serious. Not because you are about to commit to another human being for the rest of your existence, but because there’s a $40,000 party afterwards with 200+ guests and if everything doesn’t run 100% according to plan, there will be crying in the bathroom and ‘until death do you part’ might come sooner than you’d like.

I can easily say that the day of our first ultrasound was by far the most real life situation I have ever been a part of. And not only was I a part of it, I was one of the main characters! I kinda felt like a giant garbage bag of emotions was smashing against the side of my head. And to say that I don’t get very emotional is a vast understatement! I honestly thought I was going to have a heart attack.

Now, the room itself does not help matters. I expected a nice colorful, bright, uplifting room for such an exciting event (for most). I bet Charles Manson’s prison cell has a cozier feel than this place. The words cold, dark, empty and uncomfortably quiet come to mind when I think of it. And this room was night and day compared to the waiting room. I can’t even get into the waiting room (but I will).

The waiting room to Hell is a happier place than the ultrasound waiting room I sat in for 90 minutes. You’d think they’d have some comfy chairs, a few magazines, God forbid a few framed pictures of some giggling babies on the frigin walls! The chairs, I believe, were made of frozen steel, the carpets and walls were a lovely matching dark gray and the tabletops were magazine-free. No magazines! My bathroom at home has half a dozen magazines! What do they expect me to do for 90 minutes?! Listen to Jacky say ‘I have to pee so bad’ every few minutes because she needs a full bladder for the ultrasound? So, we did what every normal couple does in this situation……..played the game ‘Who planned and who got knocked up?’

On the bright side, I did get a chance to glimpse into my not so near future of parenthood while observing the horribly behaved children waiting with their parents. I suppose it was worth the 90 minutes. I did learn a very important lesson – never ever bring your kid out in public. Got it.

The ultrasound machine is quite impressive, but I’m still a little unsure how this thing can see inside your guts. On the other hand, the images it generates aren’t anything to write home about. The picture looks like a green and black Doppler radar screen, at best. And when they finally focus in on the little tike, you’re shocked to see that your wife will be birthing an oversized cashew in 7 months. That’s it!?!? The greenish kidney bean inside that thunderstorm is my kid? That doesn’t look so scary. I can raise that, no problem.