11.23.2009

Not My Pregnant Woman



But she could be smug all she wants as long as she's healthy, hmmm....

Meet The Parents

After we saw the heartbeat and the lima-bean, we decided the share the good news with our folks. We were hesitant at first, and wanted to figure out the best way to do it that would be a joy to them, and easy on us.

A little history: Mrs. Abu-Who and I have been married for twelve years. In that time, we were asked many times when we were going to "give our parents grand-kids". I guess that's "what you do" when you're married...not travel, not work, not enjoy each other in your youth. Give the grandparents grand-kids.

We told them to lump it. Lovingly, of course.

Eventually, they stopped asking, for the most part. Though they'd hint at it relentlessly, fawning over our friend's kids, and asking THEM to ask. It's pretty funny, actually.

Once after being asked at a dinner, I said, "It's very possible we HAVE been trying, and maybe we just can't have them." No one went back for seconds. I did, with a huge, evil grin on my face.

Ima jerk, I guess. We knew we would have kids, God willing, when we were ready. And not as gifts to our parents, or even to us, but as additions to our family. Plus, we knew we were selfish, but more on that another time.

Despite all that, we were pretty excited to finally give the folks some good news on the baby front. However, I still had to make it fun.

We picked up some onesies for baby-head and wrapped them in Japanese paper, with cranes on top. Our last trip overseas had been to Japan, and we couldn't stop raving about it, so I figured this would be an appropriate ruse. Mwa-ha-ha!

We had the folks over for dinner, but also invited our good friends and my sister-in-law, to keep suspicion down. At some point after eating bratwurst and sauerkraut, I made an announcement. Since I work for Sony, I began thusly:
"You know how much we love Japan, and Sony is a Japanese company..."
Here's how it went.



A resounding success. I captured it for my brother, who lives far across the land, so he, his wife, and their two lovely daughters could enjoy the evening as well. My dad, in blue, was stoic, but later confided in me he was very emotional.

I knew, Dad. I knew.

11.21.2009

Ultra

At the beginning of November, after we'd gone to Disneyland with our good friends the day before, we had our first 8-week ultrasound. Sonography, the technique which uses Ultrasound to create these images for expectant mothers, is a relatively old procedure, in tech-terms. From what I found, they started using it back in 1964, just 10 years before I was born.

The technique of bouncing sound and collecting the echo for range analysis is similar to the way bats see.



The little, blurry lima-bean nestled in the dark circle is our soon-to-be gromit. Unable to be seen in the photo is the tiny, rapid blinking of our "shinobaby's" heart beat.

On a Thursday, at about five o'clock, I wept into my hands and thanked God for the life that is stirring inside my wife.

11.17.2009

Red Stripes

There is something odd about the modern pregnancy test. It seems too industrial for my taste, too analytical. Answers like that aren't meant to be instant and given alone on the toilet. They're meant to be savored with others, their full implications dawning upon the woman with support from those who have gone through it and have a hand of comfort or words of wisdom to impart.

Instead, my wife pee'd on a plastic stick and looked for a red stripe to appear.

Now, don't get me wrong. Modern science and medicine is a wonderful thing, and the convenience and health they provide are blessings. I just have a romantic view of pregnancy, and really the whole story of human life. If only pregnancy could be revealed in a dream, an angel gently whispering to the mother the coming of her child, and the beauty of the gift. Are we beyond that? Does anyone want that? I think people want to know ASAP so they can get on with their lives as quickly and efficiently as possible. Maybe because to them, life is something to do, not something to savor? I'm not sure.

I am sure that our pregnancy test experience was interesting. When "Mrs. Abu-Who" felt like she might be with child, she told me we needed to get some tests from the local Target. No problem, of course, but we had a perfect Target Lady experience.


Our Target Lady saw the tests and said "Oh yeah, these are the good ones. I've used EPT and they never work, but these have worked for me every time!" I wonder if she leaves cookies out for the Stork?

The first one we tried was, in my mind, ambiguous. Although Mrs. A says that any stripe is a positive, I wasn't ready to believe it. (There IS a stripe there, very faint, on the left.)


The second test was less open to interpretation. I allowed myself to be enthusiastic.


Finally, since there are three in a box (do they have that kind of shelf life? Does anyone actually keep one around for later?) we figured "what the heck? Lets pee on another stick!"


Yeah. No question. It was practically screaming at us, in all it's bold, red, perpendicular glory.

Now, thinking about it, I guess these tests are a good thing. I mean, today, there's a whole show dedicated to women who didn't know, until they GAVE BIRTH, that they were pregnant. I don't think an angel in their dreams could've convinced these chicks, if the actual BABY GROWING INSIDE THEM couldn't do it.

Maybe toilet's should have these tests built in. Maybe a courtesy in all hotel toilets could be a little light that blinks rapidly if a woman proves to be, ahem, replete? Like a Bat-Phone. But then, who'd buy the sticks from the Target Lady?

10.20.2009

Luke Skywalker had "Daddy Issues"

Of course, I'm no Jedi. I wasn't even a soldier. My dad was: A proud US Marine. He served in Vietnam, but doesn't talk too much about it. It is only recently that I've come to know anything substantial about my Dad, actually.

Oh, I knew he loved me, and was a strong man, and cared very much for his family as a whole. But these are abstractions. What motivated him? What kept him faithful? I could contend his Arabic culture and Greek-Orthodox upbringing, but it might be only half right, if at all. More importantly, what will keep me a good father? Even a decent one?

There is a label, in Arabic, that is interesting. It's pronounced "Abu-Dye", roughly. "Abu" means "father of" , but "Dye" isn't a name. My dad is "Abu-Nasrallah", as I'm his first born. But "Abu-Dye" is a sign of reverence and respect. It's interesting that this title includes the implication of fatherhood. It is a moniker that my father once told me he hoped to have one day. This was revealing. Will I aspire to as much?

In June 2010, God willing, I will be "Abu-(Who?)". I'm scared, excited, intimidated and overjoyed. I hope my child will be great. I hope the journey is safe. I know that I have no idea what's in store. Will I be my child's Luke Skywalker, or their Darth Vader? Probably a little of both. I'm looking forward to finding out.

(A note on the title of this blog: "Next-Gen" is a term often used to refer to videogames, a hobby I am very familiar with. Unfortunately, the culture in which I live is often more concerned with the "next big thing" in technology and entertainment than, well, life and family. So, I'm taking "Next-Gen" back! Also, while "Son" is in the title of this blog, that refers to me, and not necessarily the gender of my future child.)