I was nervous this morning, but not like last time. Partly because I didn’t have the time to worry like I did last time, and partly because I felt maybe more in control. As we got to the hospital though, my heart was pounding.

They got us in right away, no waiting, and I assumed the position and did some deep breathing while holding Dave’s hand, waiting for the u/s tech to arrive. When she did, she asked if I wanted the mirror available to see, and I told her no, not unless it was positive information.

She got started, dave watched, I watched Dave and squeezed his hand and the tech took scans. "I’m getting your right ovary now. Now your left. … just taking measurements…"  It took forever, it seemed, and there was no indication of good news,it seemed.  Then she said "What would you consider ‘good news?’"

"Measuring okay for dates, and a hearbeat between 120-160bpm."  I’m sure she thought, "Oh, a Google mother," but she asked Dave to swing the mirror around.  "You’re right on for your dates, 6weeks 3 days, and the hearbeat is right there . . . . 124 bpm."  We saw it, flashing, and she pointed out the good yolk sac, and she printed off a few pictures for us.  And that was it, I got dressed and took a deep breath and immediately wanted to puke out of relief, but I don’t puke, so I didn’t.  Then, there was part B.

There’s this GUY that Dave used to work with at the old station.  He’s a goodhearted guy, but he’s, well, a redneck. He’s the King of the Mullet. He says "DAAAAAAAAYYYYYUUMMM" a lot. And likes trucks. And girls with big titties. (And those are the words he’d use.)  Even better, his name is initials — JD.  JD and Joe Dirt? Very similar. Might’n even be kin.

Once, when I had Annemarie up for an Americorps meeting, JD was over and talking about picking up his son from middle school, and "DAAAYYYYYYUUUMM, those 8th grade girls are STACKED these days!"  i was horrified, as was AM, I think, but it’s just… it’s JD. 

He’s into video production, and he really loves Dave, and every once in a while we’ll get a call and Dave will go out and help him with something.  If you drove your car into a ditch, JD would be one of the first people there with a truck and a come-along to help you out, he’s not a bad person. But he’s, well, JD.  A while back, JD landed a great job at the hospital working with A/V type stuff, and he sort of lost the mullet, but he still has a weird haircut. You can take the mullet off of JD, but you can’t take JD from the mullet.

We’re walking through the lobby, and my brain can’t even process the scene that starts to unfold right away. I think "Oh, that guy headed to the security desk looks familia-" and he turns and looks and I just fucking lose it, but in my head. It’s JD.

So, here we are, walking towards the exit door, away from medical imaging, and it’s both of us, and yay, I’m not sobbing hysterically. Visiting hours aren’t open yet, we’re not in the ER, so JD’s brain is obviously trying to figure out just what the fuck is going on. And that is how JD ended up being the first person Dave has told about the pregnancy.

"Heyyyyyy, Dave… Gretchen…. what are you guys doing here?" And I just look at Dave, and try not to bust out laughing at the absurdity of what is going on, I mean, it’s JfuckingD. JD. And Dave sort of points at my gut and says "Uh, ultrasound…." and JD is all "Congratulations man! SWEEEET! And sort of high fives Dave and shakes my hand."
"Dude…. " and he looks at me " and dudETTE, that is way cool." Seriously. Imagine Joe Dirt in a maroon dress shirt and a black tie with hair that desperately wishes it were still a mullet.

The best part, though, is that I looked at his clipboard, where, in Sharpie, it is written "Dr. Sanchez."  Knowing JD, I immediately know what that means, so Isay "Hey, are you Dr Sanchez?" and he looks at me and says "oh,… ha hah, it’s, kind of a joke…" in this ‘you wouldn’t understand’ way. Dave pipes up and says "Is your first name . . . . Dirty?"  And JD’s jaw drops.

"DUDE! How’d you know! DAAAAAYYYYUUUUMMM!"

So, yes, our first congratulations of the day came from an A/V tech named JD, who labels his clipboard with a Dirty Sanchez joke. I swear to god, I was laughing all the way to the car.