Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Qué será, será

The Spanish have a saying that means "What will be, will be." No matter how hard you try, how hard you pray, or how badly you want something, sometimes...what will be, will just fucking be.

Jasmine's eyes were puffy this evening, even though she looked fine otherwise. I think she'd been crying, but lately that doesn't seem to be unusual. We were back in the same lobby at roughly 5:00, maybe 5:10. I was a little late, get off my ass. We were waiting all of six seconds before the door opened and a woman in scrubs was calling us back again, dejavu.

Jazz was asked to take off her pants this time and lie on the table with a paper sheet over her. There were no stirrups this time, I checked. And the room was no bigger than my closet at home. Plus, it was dim which seemed less intrusive somehow. I gave Jasmine a kiss and stood between the table and wall, facing the big thingamajig standing beside the table with a TV monitor attached.

When the sonographer came back in she pulled out this long ass wand, lubed it down and up she went. Jazz gasped and told her it was cold. That must suck.

The sonographer, Neesha, fished that wand thing around with her right hand while using her left to type stuff in, click buttons, spin a big mouse ball, and mumble technical shit to the girl looking over her shoulder. It just looked like a bunch of blobs to me. Was that a kidney? I kept waiting to see the baby, but it's like she didn't care about trying to find the baby. I kept wondering what in the hell she was looking for, a kitchen sink?

And then I saw movement. "Is that it?" She ignored me. Was it alive? But I couldn't ask that out loud. She was quiet, the sonographer, and pointing at the screen to the other girl, talking her fancy medical talk that was as clear as pig latin to me.

Whatever it was, it was moving. But it didn't look like...anything. It was this weird spinning or something. A little speck that was fluttering in place. She moved the wand, shit swirled all over the place, and then it reappeard. They talked some more and I heard her say, "Bee."

Bee?

That's when she flipped the switch on the sound and looked at me and Jasmine. The room was filled with a booming, pulsating swish that sounded like a freight train or a police siren without the pitch.

Jazz beat me to it. "Is that my baby's heartbeat?"

"Yes, it is. You're between 5 and 6 weeks along."

Damn, that far? And it's alive, too. With a beating heart, just like a real live person! Get the fuck out of here! Shit, it's about the size of a pea. I could tell Jasmine was floored. Looking back now at her behavior, I think she had convinced herself it died.

"So it's okay?" Jazz asked.

Yes, everything was ordinary. The sonographer explained that she couldn't find a reason for the bleeding, so there was no way to know what exactly was causing it, but that it's normal for some women to have periods every month throughout an entire pregnancy.

It has a heart. That beats. With blood! I can't fucking believe that shit. We didn't even know about it until last week and now it's alive. Sort of like a tapeworm. Eww, creepy. Suddenly, I was very disturbed by the thought of it...inside of her...leeching off of her nutrients like a parasite. God, I'm glad I'm not a woman.

Neesha, looked at me. "Congratulations, Dad. What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a financial advisor at Big Investment Firm."

She smiled warmly. "Oh, I see. Sounds like you're making pretty good money."

Well, aren't we forward today? "Better than most," I replied humbly, managing a discreet smile.

"Oh, shit." Jasmine whispered.

"Good," Neesha said, as she adjusted the wand and shit swirled across the screen again. "You'll need it."