OK, so we went to our first prenatal appointment yesterday, and it turned out to be part one of a two-part appointment. Because of all the information gathering (including lab tests, questionnaires, etc.) and questions women usually have, University Physicians now starts with a nursing appointment, to get all that out of the way, then helps you choose an OB and make a separate appointment. Considering Darrick and I were there for two hours yesterday, I have to say I really appreciate this setup. I can't imagine then having to go through the doctor's exam as well. And we got to talk to the nurse about all kinds of questions, dismissing the old wives' tales about cats, for example, and getting good advice about how to prepare the pets, particularly Gonzo and Tarzan, who are most likely to jump up and try to squirm onto our laps while we have the baby in hand. The solution? Start holding a doll now to get them used to it. Brilliant! Or, I should say, brilliant in theory. We don't have any dolls to practice with, so I'll have to dig a stuffed animal out of storage. Don't know whether this will work until we try it, but it seems solid.
The most bizarre development of this pregnancy so far is that after a lifetime of having the weakest sense of smell you could imagine (short of having no sense of smell), suddenly I can smell everything. And that's not always a good thing, because seriously, whoever is reading this, odds are you really stink. In the interest of using my powers for good, I am thinking about seeing if the Tucson police force could use another drug sniffer. Sure, the dogs might not accept me at first, but I don't think even the fiercest doberman will dare to mess with a moody pregnant woman.
And our latest name discussions have hit upon an obvious naming solution, boy or girl: Doctor. Is that not perfect? No savings-draining college tuition for Doctor Mallon. Plenty of Laurel and Hardy schtick at the prenatal appointments:
"The doctor's fine, but don't you want to know about the baby?"
"Yes, how's Doctor?"
And so forth. The classroom image is also hilarious. Picture a first-grade classroom: "Doctor Mallon?" A little hand shoots up. "Here."
In the interest of preventing confusion, however, and because Cappy still makes us giggle, we'll continue to use that name for the time being.