Ultrasound = Ultrareal

To paraphrase Richard Winters from Stephen Spielberg's Band of Brothers, "Today was the day of days." I took the day off and we woke up around 730AM. Courtney had to drink 32 ounces of water between then and 8am. She faithfully drank all the water and we arrived at our appointment on time.

They called us into the ultrasound room about five minutes after checking in. Our technician was thorough and professional and had a great bedside manner. He piled the gel near her bellow button as she lay there in the dimly lit room. His hand deftly moved across her belly as his hawk like eyes searched the monitor for body parts.

He asked us if we wanted to know the gender and we enthusiastically answered yes. His hand held sensor glided across Courtney's abdomen and he showed us what we wanted to know. It was a boy!

The rest of the appointment was spent going over bones and profiles and fingers. After each successive identifier it became more and more real to me. This was my child, my baby boy, kicking and squirming inside his momma's womb. I was out of breath as I craned my neck farther and farther forward to get a good view of Gibson Bennett Basse.

For hours after I could barely contain my emotions. It's been real for Courtney, but for me it's been confined to a couple of late night cravings and her little baby bump. It's real now! I watched his heart beat and his arms and legs move. I watched as the technician placed the wand to face the bottom of my baby's feet. I watched the feet stomp on what could only be compared to a glass floor and cried.

Our child is the culmination of our dreams. It's the ultimate expression of our love for each other. It's amazing to think that beyond the biology of the situation we will have a dependent for at least the next 20 years. This is someone we not only clothe and feed, but impute our beliefs and morals. This person will in great part be shaped by how Courtney and I treat each other and others, by the way we treat him and by the way we respond to life situations.

It is often quoted that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Consciously and unconsciously our child will mimic us. My prayer is that we live lives worth mimicking. The responsibility for our children's children starts with us and what we stand for. Since the appointment the far reaching consequences of our actions as parents have been freaking me out...and that is where I'll stop.

It is possible to process the physical information that we are having a son, but foolish to try to figure out how exactly to raise him. There is no way to predict the future with absolute certainty and so we will do the best we can and encourage him to be the best he can.

I love you Gibson...

Love,

Daddy