Practicing mental indigestion daily
Of all the chaos that is my life right now, Kerry and I did find some time to have a little fun with our growing boy.
We took him in for a 3D ultrasound, where it is possible to see a semi-blurry representation of your future child that isn’t just gray fuzz and whir in 2D.
We weren’t sure if we were going to do it or not, but then Grandpa-to-be stepped in with gusto.
This will be a serious effort in random coherence, as best I can demonstrate it. I’m excessively tired, bare that in mind as I plan not to edit a single line of this once I am done.
The whole thing started with what should have been a good day. Unlike a great deal of Hollywood films, this one ended in more of a wash than a good or a bad.
I should become so used to these words.
They will penetrate every week of my life from here until the end, or so I suppose. From the moment of conception, I am fixated, at least a few times a day, on my unborn son’s growth and development.
I read an article in some pregnancy magazine that said, as if actually existing within Kerry’s body, ‘you’re feeling better than ever now in your pregnancy!. You and your partner are likely to go on a trip around this time, usually as a way of enjoying each other on a vacation for the last time in a long while.’
Well, maybe I indulged the quote a bit, but it’s hardly far from what the article was trying to get across. Damn magazines – how belittling it is to be that predictable.
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