porphyry: (Hygeia)
[personal profile] porphyry
A few weeks ago, a co-worker of mine got married. He's only twenty-five, and his new bride twenty-three, and she's already wanting children. I harped against it all spring.

"Don't do it, Nathan," I counseled him. "Have some 'us' time first. Once you have kids, any time you two will have to yourselves is reduced to almost nothing."

So God got even with me. He made me pregnant instead.

Ah, divine retribution. Even the atheists I work with agreed. It's just too funny. When I told Nathan, the look of shock on his face is almost worth my being pregnant again. After all, I am forty-three. No one expected it, least of all me.

See the little bugger below:



The larger blob is his or her head. The smaller blob is his or her body. The white part, in real life, is flickering. That's his or her heart, which today was beating at 168 beats per minute. The baby measured exactly nine weeks and four days, right on target.

"Your chances of miscarriage," Dr. Dalla Riva said, "Just fell dramatically."

When I missed my period in June, I didn't worry too much about it. I thought it was the beginnings of menopause. A week or so after that, I started feeling nauseated all the time, and then I knew. Malkhos made me take a home test anyway, and it must of been pretty funny to see the two of us, standing there like two stupid fifteen-year-olds, staring at the two pink lines, wondering how the hell this could have happened.

My doctor, even, was surprised.

"I have women come in here at your age and can't do this with fertility assistance," he said.

"What were the chances?" I asked.

"One to three percent," he said.

Now why can't I, say, win the lottery instead if I'm so lucky? Jeez. It's especially stunning since it's hard for Malkhos and I to find time alone more than three times a year.

But I'm getting used to the idea, I suppose. I just hope Malkhos isn't too rusty with his expert swaddling skills.

Date: 2010-07-28 01:54 am (UTC)
med_cat: (Default)
From: [personal profile] med_cat
Oh my...what an example of situational irony! All the best--I'm sure both of you will do just fine :)

Date: 2010-07-28 04:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] helima.livejournal.com
Divine retribution indeed.
Congratulations!

Date: 2010-07-28 05:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] benicek.livejournal.com
You've given me an idea. These days I'd do almost anything to avoid being alone with my wife.

Date: 2010-07-28 07:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] daoinesidh.livejournal.com
Sending my best to all of you ... and I must say that the little rambler's sparkly heartbeat was pretty darned cute! :)

Date: 2010-07-28 09:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] clodia-metelli.livejournal.com
Awww. Congratulations!

Date: 2010-07-28 09:46 am (UTC)
filialucis: (Default)
From: [personal profile] filialucis
Congratulations.

(And, yes. God clearly does have a sense of humour. :)

Date: 2010-07-28 11:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] malkhos.livejournal.com
I would, if I were you. Warn her. Show her these ultrasound pictures and make her very, very afraid. :)

Date: 2010-07-28 11:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] malkhos.livejournal.com
It is the irony of it that makes it so funny to me. I mean, I didn't let up on Nathan (my co-worker) for months!

Date: 2010-07-28 11:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] malkhos.livejournal.com
Well, even if I still feel stunned about this, there's something about that little fetal heartbeat that always touches me.

Date: 2010-07-28 11:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] malkhos.livejournal.com
Yes, He does! I kept thinking about your user pic with the "Smite" button. I think I've been smote!

Date: 2010-07-28 09:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] majolika.livejournal.com
hahaha that's a funny story! congrats, and break a leg with your wee Alien :)

Date: 2010-07-29 01:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] malkhos.livejournal.com
I like the question mark. :) Malkhos and I are still... adjusting. We really and truly thought we were finished having children.

Yes, we told the children. Andrew seemed thrilled; Madeline said, "No, you can only have two babies, me and Andrew." I didn't press her about it--I think she'll be fine.

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