1. James Dowd

    When we got the first photographic evidence of Rebecca, our daughter, I knew it was for real. The weight gain, the crankiness, the constant vomiting. Not to mention what my wife was going through. They handed us the pic out of the ultrasound machine [much like the photo booth at Salem Willows. I was so amazed by it: the little hands, the brain, the heart. All my family have hearts, it's totally inherited. I was so mesmerized by it that instead of holding the handrail to descend the stairs back to the waiting room at the ultrasound palace, I just kept staring at the pic. I lost my footing and careened down about a dozen stairs to come to a stop in a heap right in front of the intake desk. There, a male nurse who's name was probably Sully or Sean [or both] stood up, realized I was his Boston-Irish brethren and not a massively pregnant woman and said, "Hold onto the handrail, *Dadddy*". And such was my introduction to parenthood.

  2. That is all kinds of fantastic. I sat on my couch and laughed into my laptop until the baby smacked my insides to get me to stop. Jon is also really into the ultrasound pictures, but has not yet taken a header down a flight of steps because of them. That is true devotion.

  3. I must plug in the scanner if only to start keeping better track of my check stubs. Re: pictures, they’re so much less fun than video. When do you think hospitals will start offering video feed?

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