Jems from Kayra on March 8th.
Hello Mummi
Hello Dede
Heelloooo Ankara......
"Good morning Viiiiieeeetnaaaaaaaaam......."
(Sung to the tune of 70's pop tune "Mammy Blue")
Oh Baba,
Oh Baba Baba Blue
Oh Baba Blue
"Kayra and the Pop Tops with the James Last Orchestra....."
And I am sure there are more on the way.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Off to the blogger once more
For shamefully deserting the blog a little after 5 months into the most wonderful news Aylin and I ever had in our lives, some excuses or apologies maybe in order. But, I will elude both and just admit that from time to time I regret stopping, but..... Que sera, sera.
During those 2 years that passed in the blinking of an eye, our daughter --- Kayra Nil Ustunkok, born January 23, 2008 --- has grown, learned, accomplished, improved, communicated, charmed, studied, motivated, entertained, loved, amazed, taught, enjoyed, laughed, played with, and participated in more things and more people than most adults I know. She certainly got me beat.
I am awed, impressed, inspired, amazed, and proud of her. Everyday, without fail and without delay, she makes it better.
Go ahead and ask... Ask "what better?"
Everything.
While attempting to think of ways to express the difference my little girl makes in my life, I thought of a button one of my co-workers got pinned on his cube wall called a "Fun Meter". It's got green, yellow and red fun indicator zones with a simple needle that is set to indicate the fun level of the wearer. It is sold as a gag gift but I find the fun meter to be as valuable as the dashboard in my car.
I personally think fun meters should be part of our daily wear. One could even debate that a fun meter could be as valuable as a watch. You can avoid embarrassing or confrontational encounters, ensemble with fellow mood mates, immediately locate a person with an agreeable mood, and conveniently communicate your opinion of someone in curt but socially acceptable manner.
Obviously, I must be neither the first person or the only person to think that fun meters should be daily wear.
In the 70s, the "Mood Ring" was a good attempt at making fun meters part of our daily wear. Although far ahead of it's time in it's unique ability to automatically indicate the wearers mood, it was still limited in it's technology. The thermotropic liquid crystal lacked the robustness and precision to make it a practical tool. So, it faded out of fashion. Today, mood rings are eking out an existence only as a nostalgic 70's accessory worn by young girls, space cadets, and the lunatic fringe.
I say we bring them back into fashion and make them mainstream. New technologies can improve and expand the use of fun meters to other medium. Mood sensitive dresses can have a variety of private and public uses. Mood sensitive corporate ids can send streams of employee mood status to HR systems and help to establish programs for employee evaluation, training, motivation, and compensation based on mood trends. I'm getting too Orwellian. Let's keep mood sensitive stuff to jewelry only.
I think I would like a Mood Tie Tag. It would go well with the Jerry Garcia ties I wear to the office from time to time. And, it would shine like a diamond when I get home and hear Kayra welcome me saying "Hi Daddy".
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Ultrasound
I will keep it simple and just post the pictures. 20 weeks 2 days. Still no name.
They call this one 4D. I'm still trying to figure this one out.
They call this one 4D. I'm still trying to figure this one out.
It's been a while
Finally finished my last task of the day and reviewed the new listing that our real estate agent had sent today. Wow, its midnight. Anthony Bourdain show is starting on Travel Channel. There he is again with some alcoholic beverage in yet another country. Good show to relax to alone in the living room. Aylin is fast a sleep and I can freely watch a free spirited, drinking, swearing, fried pork skin loving hedonist chef without guilt. I am waiting for that day when TV can transmit taste and smell as well. My mouth is watering. There he goes again, another pork rind in Puerto Rico. Yep, finally a good time to write that blog entry I've been neglecting for some time.
Not that I didn't have anything to write about. There were many things to write like Eric getting teary eyed over the weekend as he reminisced about his girls and how quickly they have grown. I just couldn't help but think about the fact that Eric found out Lori being pregnant with their first child the day before he and I took off for a trip to Dortmund, Germany for work. I was the first person to find out about Katie after Eric. The third person overall. The twins were born two years later, on August 20th. The day before I took off to Turkey in 2002 to meet Aylin for that infamous Blue Cruise that resulted in me creating this blog in the first place.
They say the three most stressful things in your life are, childbirth, moving, and a new job. I've got news. We are closing on our new house in Rochester on November 26th. That leaves us a little over a month to sell our house in Tampa and settle back in Rochester; a move necessitated by my new position at work. The timing seems to be just right because after the end of November Aylin will be too pregnant to travel. The real estate market downturn isn't helping any either. I've been so pre-occupied with other things that the blog just had to take a second seat.
What a good friend Eric is. He calmed me yet again when we stopped over at their house after a full day of house hunting in Rochester over the weekend. Eric is very good source of advice and I unashamedly seek my share. Thanks to him I am no longer panicking about handling a new born, just nervous. I am comfortable with our parenting instincts enough to not worry about raising a child by constantly sifting trough the pages of some baby manual. Just keep one handy. I know that we are going to need a lot of diapers. Good advice Eric. I had not realized the magnitude of his advice until he put it in perspective and told me that diapers are their own item in Quicken. For those of you who are not familiar with Quicken, it's a financial/tax preparation software for those who prefer to do their own taxes on their PC at home. And, I am comforted by the fact that we can inherit some of the cool stuff his girls outgrow. Probably a tax break for him and a penny saver for me.
So, you can see why I am so glad to have Eric and Lori as dear friends. With a 7 year old and 5 year old twins, they have a lot of experience that we can learn from. They have all the answers to questions about brands, types, necessities, activities, etc. But, if you want to learn about parenting, you just have to see them with their kids. They are wonderful teachers.
Not that I didn't have anything to write about. There were many things to write like Eric getting teary eyed over the weekend as he reminisced about his girls and how quickly they have grown. I just couldn't help but think about the fact that Eric found out Lori being pregnant with their first child the day before he and I took off for a trip to Dortmund, Germany for work. I was the first person to find out about Katie after Eric. The third person overall. The twins were born two years later, on August 20th. The day before I took off to Turkey in 2002 to meet Aylin for that infamous Blue Cruise that resulted in me creating this blog in the first place.
They say the three most stressful things in your life are, childbirth, moving, and a new job. I've got news. We are closing on our new house in Rochester on November 26th. That leaves us a little over a month to sell our house in Tampa and settle back in Rochester; a move necessitated by my new position at work. The timing seems to be just right because after the end of November Aylin will be too pregnant to travel. The real estate market downturn isn't helping any either. I've been so pre-occupied with other things that the blog just had to take a second seat.
What a good friend Eric is. He calmed me yet again when we stopped over at their house after a full day of house hunting in Rochester over the weekend. Eric is very good source of advice and I unashamedly seek my share. Thanks to him I am no longer panicking about handling a new born, just nervous. I am comfortable with our parenting instincts enough to not worry about raising a child by constantly sifting trough the pages of some baby manual. Just keep one handy. I know that we are going to need a lot of diapers. Good advice Eric. I had not realized the magnitude of his advice until he put it in perspective and told me that diapers are their own item in Quicken. For those of you who are not familiar with Quicken, it's a financial/tax preparation software for those who prefer to do their own taxes on their PC at home. And, I am comforted by the fact that we can inherit some of the cool stuff his girls outgrow. Probably a tax break for him and a penny saver for me.
So, you can see why I am so glad to have Eric and Lori as dear friends. With a 7 year old and 5 year old twins, they have a lot of experience that we can learn from. They have all the answers to questions about brands, types, necessities, activities, etc. But, if you want to learn about parenting, you just have to see them with their kids. They are wonderful teachers.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
X to XX
I've always admired the letter "X". Although rarely used in languages or alphabets, it has become a commonly used symbol around the world. I recently observed the global domination of the loneliest of the letters while Aylin and I were on vacation in Turkey for 18 days. Even though "X" is not a letter in the Turkish language, everywhere you look there is the letter "X" staring at you. A painted "X" over a political poster on a construction site. "You are Here" designation on a tourist information map. No smoking sign in the airplane. And it doesn't end there. I started to obsess about the "X". People used it to mark a spot on a map, designate size, count a strike, rate a movie, indicate denial. We have become so accustomed to letter “X” as our first choice for a variable in algebra that the letter 'X' has evolved to represent the unknown around the world, i.e. X-Factor, X-Files, X-Plane.
I've been euphemistically using male names for our baby for comedic effect. I could've used a generic term like "Baby-X" which would have reflected how little we actually knew of our child. But, despite Aylin's worries that they were going to stick, naming our child Zigi the Zygote, Ember the Embryo, and Fethi the Fetus during each growth stage reflected belonging, family, and togetherness with a comic flare. The truth is, picking the name for ones child must be one of the hardest things to do as a parent. At least it feels like that to me right now. Next to saying goodbye to them.
The name we choose must be regal, phonetically pleasing, globally familiar, unique, secular, and pleasing to at least 3 different cultures, all religions, and two headstrong adults. Our task got slightly easier on August 27th when we learned the sex of our baby.
The amniocentesis procedure is a genetic test that not only tests for genetic disorders such as Down syndrome and MS but also as a side benefit identifies the sex of the baby by examining DNA extracted from the amniotic fluid. My mind was occupied with something completely different at the entrance of the villa complex of Tunay's summer residence while the guard was lifting an "X" marked road block to let the car through. Aylin had decided to stay at home instead of coming with us to Datca. She was waiting for us below the steps leading to the front door smiling in a pink halter-top, a color she does not prefer as I do not prefer to be bitten by a snake. I remember being confused by her wearing pink but didn't pay much attention. I was in a hurry to put the beers we had just bought from the local store into the refrigerator before they got warm from the unusually hot and windless summer day we were having. Peeking over the open fridge door I noticed that she had also stuck under her bandana a few flower petals of the pink bougainvillea that hangs down from the fence. This was especially curious, was the heat getting to her? Realizing that her shorts were also stuffed with pink petals all over was plain old weird....and for a split second I was convinced of heat stroke. Then it dawned on me. It was Monday, August 27th. First open day of the office of Doctor Galen Jones since we took off to Turkey. I asked if she had called the doctor looking surprised and anxious but in hopes that I wouldn't have to chase her with a bucket of cold water. Wow, now I get the flowers. Pink theme. A girl. A girl. Thank God a Girl. Otherwise, where could she have found blue flowers at such short notice?
I don't mean to be sarcastic or patronizing. I will never forget the moment I saw her at the bottom of the steps. She looked happy, content, and angelically beautiful from the few rays of the setting sun that managed to squeak through the blinds and scatter off of her fair complexion. She was love in pink and I was loving it. The truth of the matter is we were more worried about the real reasons for the somewhat uncomfortable and risky procedure Aylin had to go through. Were there any genetic abnormalities or defects? Aylin and I had made the decision to learn the sex of the child at the earliest opportunity. The amniocentesis procedure gave us that option. However, we both wished for a healthy child regardless of sex. It is for that reason pink didn't sink for a while. I was elated from the enormous relief of getting the genetic approval of a genetically healthy child. A huge load had been lifted from our shoulders and now Aylin and I could truly enjoy the rest of our vacation. After a long sigh I hugged and kissed my wife for, I don't know, somewhere between 2 minutes to eternity of laughter and tears, happiness and wonder. And then, it hit me...
Our DNA contains what are called "sex chromosomes". The Sex chromosomes are a pair of chromosomes that comprise about 5% of our total DNA known as the "X" and "Y" chromosomes. Ironically, out of the 2000 or so genes carried by the sex chromosomes, few, if any are directly related to sex determination or development. They are called sex chromosomes because each one of us carry a pair of them and only females have two "X" chromosomes; "XX". Don't you see? Our Baby-"X" has become our Baby-"XX".
That's what we are going to have to name her for now, "Baby-XX". I expect a lot of research, discussions, suggestions, and corrections in the future. I hope one of the three of us can pick a name before we have to register her to school. I am vetoing the following names right now: Xena, Xantha, Xaviera, Xyla, Xanadu, Xerox, Xerkes, AjaX ,AXe, AXel....
I've been euphemistically using male names for our baby for comedic effect. I could've used a generic term like "Baby-X" which would have reflected how little we actually knew of our child. But, despite Aylin's worries that they were going to stick, naming our child Zigi the Zygote, Ember the Embryo, and Fethi the Fetus during each growth stage reflected belonging, family, and togetherness with a comic flare. The truth is, picking the name for ones child must be one of the hardest things to do as a parent. At least it feels like that to me right now. Next to saying goodbye to them.
The name we choose must be regal, phonetically pleasing, globally familiar, unique, secular, and pleasing to at least 3 different cultures, all religions, and two headstrong adults. Our task got slightly easier on August 27th when we learned the sex of our baby.
The amniocentesis procedure is a genetic test that not only tests for genetic disorders such as Down syndrome and MS but also as a side benefit identifies the sex of the baby by examining DNA extracted from the amniotic fluid. My mind was occupied with something completely different at the entrance of the villa complex of Tunay's summer residence while the guard was lifting an "X" marked road block to let the car through. Aylin had decided to stay at home instead of coming with us to Datca. She was waiting for us below the steps leading to the front door smiling in a pink halter-top, a color she does not prefer as I do not prefer to be bitten by a snake. I remember being confused by her wearing pink but didn't pay much attention. I was in a hurry to put the beers we had just bought from the local store into the refrigerator before they got warm from the unusually hot and windless summer day we were having. Peeking over the open fridge door I noticed that she had also stuck under her bandana a few flower petals of the pink bougainvillea that hangs down from the fence. This was especially curious, was the heat getting to her? Realizing that her shorts were also stuffed with pink petals all over was plain old weird....and for a split second I was convinced of heat stroke. Then it dawned on me. It was Monday, August 27th. First open day of the office of Doctor Galen Jones since we took off to Turkey. I asked if she had called the doctor looking surprised and anxious but in hopes that I wouldn't have to chase her with a bucket of cold water. Wow, now I get the flowers. Pink theme. A girl. A girl. Thank God a Girl. Otherwise, where could she have found blue flowers at such short notice?
I don't mean to be sarcastic or patronizing. I will never forget the moment I saw her at the bottom of the steps. She looked happy, content, and angelically beautiful from the few rays of the setting sun that managed to squeak through the blinds and scatter off of her fair complexion. She was love in pink and I was loving it. The truth of the matter is we were more worried about the real reasons for the somewhat uncomfortable and risky procedure Aylin had to go through. Were there any genetic abnormalities or defects? Aylin and I had made the decision to learn the sex of the child at the earliest opportunity. The amniocentesis procedure gave us that option. However, we both wished for a healthy child regardless of sex. It is for that reason pink didn't sink for a while. I was elated from the enormous relief of getting the genetic approval of a genetically healthy child. A huge load had been lifted from our shoulders and now Aylin and I could truly enjoy the rest of our vacation. After a long sigh I hugged and kissed my wife for, I don't know, somewhere between 2 minutes to eternity of laughter and tears, happiness and wonder. And then, it hit me...
Our DNA contains what are called "sex chromosomes". The Sex chromosomes are a pair of chromosomes that comprise about 5% of our total DNA known as the "X" and "Y" chromosomes. Ironically, out of the 2000 or so genes carried by the sex chromosomes, few, if any are directly related to sex determination or development. They are called sex chromosomes because each one of us carry a pair of them and only females have two "X" chromosomes; "XX". Don't you see? Our Baby-"X" has become our Baby-"XX".
That's what we are going to have to name her for now, "Baby-XX". I expect a lot of research, discussions, suggestions, and corrections in the future. I hope one of the three of us can pick a name before we have to register her to school. I am vetoing the following names right now: Xena, Xantha, Xaviera, Xyla, Xanadu, Xerox, Xerkes, AjaX ,AXe, AXel....
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Amniocentesis
Unfortunately, my experience of the Amniocentesis procedure was comprised of sitting in the waiting room reading a Call Detail Record layout for a Siemens 4000 and having a 15 minute phone call with a colleague from work. Not that I didn't want to be with Aylin and witness everything but I was asked to stay behind. Maybe it was for the best. I didn't want to be a distraction with my nervousness or unconsciousness which ever came first.
Aylin's letter to our family after the procedure tells all, perfectly. So, without further delay, heeeere's Aylin:
"Dear Family,
The Amnio Test went fine. I am resting now. The doctor recommended I get off my feet and be a couch potato.
It was truly wonderful to see what goes on inside like a reality TV program, and watching the development of our baby on a big flat screen TV getting little hints of its character.
The procedure started normally. The baby was calm while the ultrasound lady (Geene) was trying to scope the area to insert the syringe and extract the amniotic fluid. As a matter fact Geene was prodding the baby to move in order to get some profile pictures that could help determine the sex but the baby paid no attention. That is until the time the area to extract the fluid was determined and the doctor inserted the syringe.
Just then the baby turned 180 degrees, stretching its arms, like Superman flying in the amniotic fluid, reached for the syringe. The doctor, surprised by the sudden movement that he says he doesn't see too often, pulled the syringe out. We had to wait for the baby to calm down to try a second time. A new area was determined for the fluid extraction. This time, using the ultrasound device, Geene tried to block the baby away from the entry point. A second insertion and this time success.
It was only a few seconds to extract the amniotic fluid, which the doctor found very clean. But to keep the baby calm and in control during the process... Wow, two needle punctures, a few tears, a lot of excitement, and 30 minutes.
Who do you think the baby takes after?
Love
Aylin, Kopuz, and "hyper-mini".
PS: Attached ultrasounds are pics of the baby resting calmly after the ultrasound.
Aylin's letter to our family after the procedure tells all, perfectly. So, without further delay, heeeere's Aylin:
"Dear Family,
The Amnio Test went fine. I am resting now. The doctor recommended I get off my feet and be a couch potato.
It was truly wonderful to see what goes on inside like a reality TV program, and watching the development of our baby on a big flat screen TV getting little hints of its character.
The procedure started normally. The baby was calm while the ultrasound lady (Geene) was trying to scope the area to insert the syringe and extract the amniotic fluid. As a matter fact Geene was prodding the baby to move in order to get some profile pictures that could help determine the sex but the baby paid no attention. That is until the time the area to extract the fluid was determined and the doctor inserted the syringe.
Just then the baby turned 180 degrees, stretching its arms, like Superman flying in the amniotic fluid, reached for the syringe. The doctor, surprised by the sudden movement that he says he doesn't see too often, pulled the syringe out. We had to wait for the baby to calm down to try a second time. A new area was determined for the fluid extraction. This time, using the ultrasound device, Geene tried to block the baby away from the entry point. A second insertion and this time success.
It was only a few seconds to extract the amniotic fluid, which the doctor found very clean. But to keep the baby calm and in control during the process... Wow, two needle punctures, a few tears, a lot of excitement, and 30 minutes.
Who do you think the baby takes after?
Love
Aylin, Kopuz, and "hyper-mini".
PS: Attached ultrasounds are pics of the baby resting calmly after the ultrasound.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Worries, anxieties, insomnia, and relief.
I couldn't sleep well at all on Sunday night. I forced myself into the bed about 2 am and just tossed and turned in cold sweat until the morning. My insomnia wasn't from stress of work, or financial issues, or what car our child will drive to the prom. I was worried about the next day, Monday, August 13th 2007.
August 13th is the anniversary date of the accident that put me through many surgeries, many months of home care and physical therapy. It was a year ago, sometime around 1 pm, that I was returning back from an unsuccessful attempt to find an open barbershop on a hot Florida Sunday when I realized that I was no longer on my motorcycle but rather laying on my back on the even hotter Florida asphalt. I, in disbelief of what just happened, was thinking that I could get up and go home as I felt no pain but when the medic started to cut my jeans I knew I wasn't going home that day. Since that moment on, I had been looking forward to August 13th, 2007 as the day I would be free of hospital beds, nurses, bedside commodes, wheelchairs and walkers; a day when I can shower, without assistance, and go up and down the stairs, without pain. But, still, this wasn't the reason I couldn't sleep.
The real reason for my restless night was the fact that Monday, August 13th 2007 was the day Dr. Galen Jones scheduled Aylin for an Amniocentesis procedure. Amniocentesis is a medical procedure used for prenatal diagnosis in which a small amount of amniotic fluid is extracted from the amnion. Let me explain this. It is a pretty barbaric invasion of the fetus' domain where a large, unfriendly syringe is forced through the mother's abdominal wall to obtain a small amount of amniotic fluid which contains fetal cells -- traces of the skin and other cells that have sloughed off the fetus during its growth. By analyzing these fetal cells the genetic health and sex of the baby can be determined.
So there I was on Sunday night, thinking about Aylin who is going to have a large metal object inserted into her abdomen to suck the juice that our child relies upon for survival. All night I was thinking how we ever volunteered for this? Oh, yeah, we've been informed that it is almost mandatory for couples over 35 to test for any genetic abnormalities, or diseases. Here comes a panic attack. Oh! the possibilities. What if our child has??? What if some complications occur??? Oh no, I can't even think it. I have to put a stop to this before the synapses in my brain complete their task and formulate the thought. "Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day....Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day....Margaret Thatcher...."
And, that is how I spent most of the time between 2 am and 8:30 am on Monday, August 13th 2007. Awake, tossing and turning, imagining a shriveled, naked, ex-prime minister of England on a cold November London rain.
August 13th is the anniversary date of the accident that put me through many surgeries, many months of home care and physical therapy. It was a year ago, sometime around 1 pm, that I was returning back from an unsuccessful attempt to find an open barbershop on a hot Florida Sunday when I realized that I was no longer on my motorcycle but rather laying on my back on the even hotter Florida asphalt. I, in disbelief of what just happened, was thinking that I could get up and go home as I felt no pain but when the medic started to cut my jeans I knew I wasn't going home that day. Since that moment on, I had been looking forward to August 13th, 2007 as the day I would be free of hospital beds, nurses, bedside commodes, wheelchairs and walkers; a day when I can shower, without assistance, and go up and down the stairs, without pain. But, still, this wasn't the reason I couldn't sleep.
The real reason for my restless night was the fact that Monday, August 13th 2007 was the day Dr. Galen Jones scheduled Aylin for an Amniocentesis procedure. Amniocentesis is a medical procedure used for prenatal diagnosis in which a small amount of amniotic fluid is extracted from the amnion. Let me explain this. It is a pretty barbaric invasion of the fetus' domain where a large, unfriendly syringe is forced through the mother's abdominal wall to obtain a small amount of amniotic fluid which contains fetal cells -- traces of the skin and other cells that have sloughed off the fetus during its growth. By analyzing these fetal cells the genetic health and sex of the baby can be determined.
So there I was on Sunday night, thinking about Aylin who is going to have a large metal object inserted into her abdomen to suck the juice that our child relies upon for survival. All night I was thinking how we ever volunteered for this? Oh, yeah, we've been informed that it is almost mandatory for couples over 35 to test for any genetic abnormalities, or diseases. Here comes a panic attack. Oh! the possibilities. What if our child has??? What if some complications occur??? Oh no, I can't even think it. I have to put a stop to this before the synapses in my brain complete their task and formulate the thought. "Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day....Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day....Margaret Thatcher...."
And, that is how I spent most of the time between 2 am and 8:30 am on Monday, August 13th 2007. Awake, tossing and turning, imagining a shriveled, naked, ex-prime minister of England on a cold November London rain.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Boy or a Girl?
Lately, I have noticed that conversations about Fethi the Fetus started to center noticeably around the sex of the baby, usually following a three-question pattern.
First question: "Do you know the sex of the baby?"
Answer: No we don't.
Second question: "Do you want to know the sex of the baby?"
Answer: Yes, we are going to find out at the earliest opportunity.
Third question: "Do you want a boy or a girl?"
Answer: Don't care. Just a healthy baby, please.
Of course, neither the questions nor our answers are so brief. After all, on most occasions the conversation is during a social event rather than an interrogation session. I want to make sure to point out that I wasn't trying to imply any kind of dissatisfaction to anyone's curiosity with short answers. Quite the contrary, as a proud father to be, I am all too eager to talk to anyone about my baby as long as anyone will listen.
The irony is that even if I am willing to blabber for hours I find very little to say. No, I don't know the sex of the baby. Yes, I want to know as soon as possible. Anything else? Not really.
Maybe I can ellaborate on the two benefits to learning the sex of the baby early. First, it'll give us more time to find a name. A name is a tag for life so it is important to give the proper time and attention to finding the right one. But even then we can never be assured that our child is going to agree to the wondrous beauty and meaning of the name which we anoint them with. The second benefit is a lot more instantaneous and gratifying. Quick cash winnings.
A strange phenomenon, the study of which may lead to a PHD for some bright Sociology student someday, is that pregnancy seems to instigate an unstoppable urge for gambling among family, friends, and colleagues. Bets on pools, squares, odds on the sex, attributes, due date, etc. have become practically a tradition. Probably not for Fethi the Fetus but I am sure there is even a line in Vegas with odds on some pregnant high society gal.
I don’t like to gamble unless I have some control of the game. I like poker for that reason. If you play your hand right you can beat chance. Of course, every gambler thinks that they have an upperhand, some secret that, no matter how slight, gives them a certain the advantage for that bet. It is no different with guessing the sex of the baby. I have never heard so many “inside tips” from so many different people.
If you can’t see the belly from the back it’s a ...
If you are thirsty all the time it's a ...
If you forget things it’s ...
If you ...
It’s endless.
I wish all my gamblers the best of luck. I hope many people ante up and the payout is huge. I will quietly watch from the sidelines knowing that I am, afterall, the grand winner. And, $5 bucks says, it’s going to be a baby and hopefully will like the name.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Cope’s Uncertainty Principle
Earlier today Aylin read me an article from one of those magazines that we occasionally subscribe to these days. The magazine article claimed that expectant fathers tend to plan far into the future as opposed to concerning themselves with more immediate issues and provided the following examples as typical male parenting concerns; what car the child is going to drive to the prom, what high school or college the child is going to attend, etc.
The "real" truth, of course, was clear to me in an instant. First, this article was written by a nice meaning but ambitious, not too cultured a woman in her late 20's or early 30's, with a journalism degree from a somewhat credible college. Secondly, the point of her article was absolutely a farce. I'll spare you the Holmesian details of my method of deduction on the writer’s character but I will just say that I found the article somewhat objectionable, even offensive. I didn't like being generalized with all the rest of the past and present male population of the world in a single statement. I, Kopuz Rifat Taskin Ustunkok, along with billions of other men, should be more complex than that. Shouldn’t we be?
Later on around 11 pm, Aylin now fast a sleep, I had already finished my complimentary glass of wine and was relaxing on the couch. Although my eyes were affixed to the TV screen, my mind was elsewhere. It was portraying a scene as clear as an IMAX theatre. My new family, 10 years from now, sailing on a brand new AMEL 54, a two mast French mansion on water, equipped with the latest electronic gadgetry of 21st century.
The ship smoothly slices through the waves with laser precision just like the dolphins swimming right in front of the bow surfing the wake of the boat. The dolphins remind me of the couple in Napoli who guided us down the highway for hours to the only open bank in the Campania region of Italy on a Sunday back in 1984. My mother had offered her gold necklace in gratitude but they politely refused, waved goodbye with a smile, and went on their marry way. I see the same smile on the dolphins as they guide us to whatever our destination may be.
What’s that? An awful noise from an abrasive TV commercial distracts me just to remind me that I've got to change the channel to the other program I am not really watching. It seems that in the U.S. of A. we are limited to approximately 15 minutes of fantasy at a time.
I struggle to go back to my perfect moment. Oh! Yes. It’s just before sunset. The aroma of dinner cooking in the galley wafts up to signal the time to anchor for the night. So, I furl the sails with the push of a button and motor towards our resting place for the night, one of the countless natural coves between Marmaris and Datca.
The Mediterranean is not like any other sea. Its salty sweet ozone smell is the perfect condiment to the cuisine that bares its name. That cuisine is as distinctive and diverse as the thousand civilizations that the Mediterranean has borne over millennia but the fact that all Mediterranean cultures share a common passion for food and a zest for life proves without a doubt that it was that cuisine that spurred on the civilizations rather than the opposite.
The Rose de Provence we got from Cote d’Azur a few weeks prior would be the perfect wine with the Red Snapper that’s just about to be served. I grab the wine from the wine cellar and I hear Aylin calling our…. kid,, boy--?/ girl--/? She yells out a name but it is mumbled. I can't make it out. Panic strikes. I don't know our child’s name. As a matter of fact, I don't know my child. There is a 10 year old in the aft room, playing, and I have no idea who that person is or looks like. In a total fit of frustration, I go back to scrolling through the TV channels to find something to watch before joining Aylin in bed.
It is that “Space Time Continuum” conundrum that is my problem with the aforementioned article. Maybe all men tend to fantasize about the future as I caught myself doing last night. But that is because we, just like all the mothers of the world, want to make sure that our children live in prosperity, comfort, and safety. There is no other thing in the world that would make us more content than being able to prepare for all the contingencies, find all the answers, and lay out the grand plan. But no matter how elaborate, thorough, and clever the plan may be, “Cope’s Uncertainty Principle” states that probability and time are in reverse relation to each other. Thus, even the best laid out plans will transform into fantasy and eventually to impossibility as time frame stretches towards infinity. The simplest of questions like which school to go to, or what car to drive to the prom are therefore theoretically impossible to plan for. I maybe totally wrong with my character evaluation of the writer but I am certain of the fact that with a weak foundation long term plans don't stand a chance when even fantasies fail. We’ll just have to plan one day at a time, males and females alike.
The "real" truth, of course, was clear to me in an instant. First, this article was written by a nice meaning but ambitious, not too cultured a woman in her late 20's or early 30's, with a journalism degree from a somewhat credible college. Secondly, the point of her article was absolutely a farce. I'll spare you the Holmesian details of my method of deduction on the writer’s character but I will just say that I found the article somewhat objectionable, even offensive. I didn't like being generalized with all the rest of the past and present male population of the world in a single statement. I, Kopuz Rifat Taskin Ustunkok, along with billions of other men, should be more complex than that. Shouldn’t we be?
Later on around 11 pm, Aylin now fast a sleep, I had already finished my complimentary glass of wine and was relaxing on the couch. Although my eyes were affixed to the TV screen, my mind was elsewhere. It was portraying a scene as clear as an IMAX theatre. My new family, 10 years from now, sailing on a brand new AMEL 54, a two mast French mansion on water, equipped with the latest electronic gadgetry of 21st century.
The ship smoothly slices through the waves with laser precision just like the dolphins swimming right in front of the bow surfing the wake of the boat. The dolphins remind me of the couple in Napoli who guided us down the highway for hours to the only open bank in the Campania region of Italy on a Sunday back in 1984. My mother had offered her gold necklace in gratitude but they politely refused, waved goodbye with a smile, and went on their marry way. I see the same smile on the dolphins as they guide us to whatever our destination may be.
What’s that? An awful noise from an abrasive TV commercial distracts me just to remind me that I've got to change the channel to the other program I am not really watching. It seems that in the U.S. of A. we are limited to approximately 15 minutes of fantasy at a time.
I struggle to go back to my perfect moment. Oh! Yes. It’s just before sunset. The aroma of dinner cooking in the galley wafts up to signal the time to anchor for the night. So, I furl the sails with the push of a button and motor towards our resting place for the night, one of the countless natural coves between Marmaris and Datca.
The Mediterranean is not like any other sea. Its salty sweet ozone smell is the perfect condiment to the cuisine that bares its name. That cuisine is as distinctive and diverse as the thousand civilizations that the Mediterranean has borne over millennia but the fact that all Mediterranean cultures share a common passion for food and a zest for life proves without a doubt that it was that cuisine that spurred on the civilizations rather than the opposite.
The Rose de Provence we got from Cote d’Azur a few weeks prior would be the perfect wine with the Red Snapper that’s just about to be served. I grab the wine from the wine cellar and I hear Aylin calling our…. kid,, boy--?/ girl--/? She yells out a name but it is mumbled. I can't make it out. Panic strikes. I don't know our child’s name. As a matter of fact, I don't know my child. There is a 10 year old in the aft room, playing, and I have no idea who that person is or looks like. In a total fit of frustration, I go back to scrolling through the TV channels to find something to watch before joining Aylin in bed.
It is that “Space Time Continuum” conundrum that is my problem with the aforementioned article. Maybe all men tend to fantasize about the future as I caught myself doing last night. But that is because we, just like all the mothers of the world, want to make sure that our children live in prosperity, comfort, and safety. There is no other thing in the world that would make us more content than being able to prepare for all the contingencies, find all the answers, and lay out the grand plan. But no matter how elaborate, thorough, and clever the plan may be, “Cope’s Uncertainty Principle” states that probability and time are in reverse relation to each other. Thus, even the best laid out plans will transform into fantasy and eventually to impossibility as time frame stretches towards infinity. The simplest of questions like which school to go to, or what car to drive to the prom are therefore theoretically impossible to plan for. I maybe totally wrong with my character evaluation of the writer but I am certain of the fact that with a weak foundation long term plans don't stand a chance when even fantasies fail. We’ll just have to plan one day at a time, males and females alike.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Special Moments
A "special moment". You know, that moment in time that life just couldn't be any better. We all have them from time to time. I can easily list about 10 in a heartbeat......
Yes, in a heartbeat. On most occasions these moments are spontaneous, at least they have been for me. A by chance look at a setting sun, an unexpected caressing touch of a loved one, a sweet forgotten smell full of memories, a fleeting moment of thought that sweeps us away and awakens us to life’s beauty and our good fortune, as if a gift for something done right.
But, this time, I knew that on July 26th, a little after 4 pm, I was going to have a very special moment. We had an appointment to see Dr.Galen Jones. I was finally going to hear the heartbeat of our baby. Aylin told me that the ultrasound device that they listen to the heartbeat is pretty loud so I expected that I could utilize any device with a microphone.
That choice used to be a lot easier in the old days. You could easily assume that the primary function of almost any device attached to a microphone was to record sound. Nowadays we are dropped inside a technological labyrinth peppered with multi functional gizmos that seem to do everything except windows – don’t you love the pun?
I spent two days contemplating on what device I should use to record the sound. It needed to be sensitive, practical, digital, and portable. I could use my PDA but I realized that I couldn’t transfer the file to my computer because I didn’t have the proper software. Next option ARCHOS AV500, my media player. It can hold over 100 movies, why couldn't it store a few seconds of heartbeat? Oh yeah, right, I messed up the OS so my laptop doesn't see it as an external drive anymore. What other device can I use to record my special moment? I know, the camera, the camera.
Yes, in an age when I can get my directions from my cell phone instead of stopping at a gas station, watch movies on my "walkman" instead of going to the theatre, order my half mushroom, half pepperoni, well done crispy pizza with an extra side of blue cheese from my laptop without talking to a person, why does it sound so strange that I can use a photo camera to record my baby's heartbeat electronically on a wave file? After all, aren't cameras made specifically to capture those special moments? Well, I am not disappointed. My camera once again captured a special moment. But this time, I will re-live that moment every time I listen to this…………
<bgsound src="c:\pics\En yeni Ustunkok\baby.wav" loop="0">
Yes, in a heartbeat. On most occasions these moments are spontaneous, at least they have been for me. A by chance look at a setting sun, an unexpected caressing touch of a loved one, a sweet forgotten smell full of memories, a fleeting moment of thought that sweeps us away and awakens us to life’s beauty and our good fortune, as if a gift for something done right.
But, this time, I knew that on July 26th, a little after 4 pm, I was going to have a very special moment. We had an appointment to see Dr.Galen Jones. I was finally going to hear the heartbeat of our baby. Aylin told me that the ultrasound device that they listen to the heartbeat is pretty loud so I expected that I could utilize any device with a microphone.
That choice used to be a lot easier in the old days. You could easily assume that the primary function of almost any device attached to a microphone was to record sound. Nowadays we are dropped inside a technological labyrinth peppered with multi functional gizmos that seem to do everything except windows – don’t you love the pun?
I spent two days contemplating on what device I should use to record the sound. It needed to be sensitive, practical, digital, and portable. I could use my PDA but I realized that I couldn’t transfer the file to my computer because I didn’t have the proper software. Next option ARCHOS AV500, my media player. It can hold over 100 movies, why couldn't it store a few seconds of heartbeat? Oh yeah, right, I messed up the OS so my laptop doesn't see it as an external drive anymore. What other device can I use to record my special moment? I know, the camera, the camera.
Yes, in an age when I can get my directions from my cell phone instead of stopping at a gas station, watch movies on my "walkman" instead of going to the theatre, order my half mushroom, half pepperoni, well done crispy pizza with an extra side of blue cheese from my laptop without talking to a person, why does it sound so strange that I can use a photo camera to record my baby's heartbeat electronically on a wave file? After all, aren't cameras made specifically to capture those special moments? Well, I am not disappointed. My camera once again captured a special moment. But this time, I will re-live that moment every time I listen to this…………
Saturday, July 14, 2007
The "Quickening"
Until today I've always thought that "Quickening" was the prize Connor MacLeod of clan MacLeod won after beating all the other immortals in the world. If you have no idea what I just said, you haven't seen the move "Highlander".
So, I was in total shock when I read about our Fethi the Fetus reaching quickening sometime in the second trimester. How could that be? How can Fethi be immortal without being born? Are there no other immortals left in the whole world thus making our child the default recipient of the big prize? How can it be that this pregnancy book is written only for Aylin and I? I had a lot of questions that needed to be answered.
As usual, I consulted my favorite repository of knowledge, Wikipedia. It describes quickening as the moment of the initial motion of the fetus in the womb as it is perceived or felt by the pregnant woman. For centuries, this first feeling of movement of the fetus by the expectant mother was considered to be the official beginning of the possession of "individual life" by the fetus.
You would think that I would have been disapointed to discover that Fethi the Fetus is not "the" immortal champion of the world. But no, not even the slightest bit. As a matter of fact, I feel completely the opposite way. Our child is achieving quickening, and I couldn't be happier, more satisfied or proud. It's the greatest prize that I can ever think of receiving. Take that Connor MacLeod.
By the way, for those of you who haven't seen the movie Highlander, it's worth renting just to see a French actor, Christopher Lambert, play a Scottish highlander and a Scotsman, Sean Connery, play a Spanish noble. Think about it.
So, I was in total shock when I read about our Fethi the Fetus reaching quickening sometime in the second trimester. How could that be? How can Fethi be immortal without being born? Are there no other immortals left in the whole world thus making our child the default recipient of the big prize? How can it be that this pregnancy book is written only for Aylin and I? I had a lot of questions that needed to be answered.
As usual, I consulted my favorite repository of knowledge, Wikipedia. It describes quickening as the moment of the initial motion of the fetus in the womb as it is perceived or felt by the pregnant woman. For centuries, this first feeling of movement of the fetus by the expectant mother was considered to be the official beginning of the possession of "individual life" by the fetus.
You would think that I would have been disapointed to discover that Fethi the Fetus is not "the" immortal champion of the world. But no, not even the slightest bit. As a matter of fact, I feel completely the opposite way. Our child is achieving quickening, and I couldn't be happier, more satisfied or proud. It's the greatest prize that I can ever think of receiving. Take that Connor MacLeod.
By the way, for those of you who haven't seen the movie Highlander, it's worth renting just to see a French actor, Christopher Lambert, play a Scottish highlander and a Scotsman, Sean Connery, play a Spanish noble. Think about it.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
End of the first trimester.
I believe this is the first 12 weeks in my life with a contiguous smile. Every time I think about Aylin, pregnancy, children, or anything else that reminds me of the above three, basically about everything else that is left in the universe, I can't help but start grinning.
In the past 12 weeks, we've followed our bean child Ziggy the Zygote grow up to become Fethi the Fetus. How wondrous it is that a few cells can evolve so quickly into a baby in front of our eyes.
Going into the second trimester, it is even more amazing to find out that Fethi the Fetus has all 20 teeth already developed, the brain is not quite the size it will be upon birth but still fully formed, intestines are moving from the umbilical cord to the abdomen, and Fethi is practicing bowel movements, even the pancreas is secreting insulin.
The changes on Aylin's body are as exciting. Her body is very busy trying to accommodate Fethi the Fetus’ needs. As a result she had been feeling tired and sleepy which is very normal for the first trimester. Entering the second trimester, her lethargy should diminish as her placenta takes over hormone generation. Which is good because now that her clothes are no longer starting to fit her, she is going to need that extra energy for shopping for a new wardrobe.
About shopping, pregnancy.baby-gaga.com says:
"The good news is some fashion designers are realizing that being pregnant doesn’t mean you can’t look sharp, sexy, sporty, or whatever your particular style might be".
I've never seen Aylin not look sharp, sexy, sporty, or whatever her particular style do jour may be. She's got elan. Warning, here comes the grin, I even think she is more beautiful and sexy being pregnant. Heheee.
The same web site also states that this is no time to give up comfort and suffer for the sake of fashion. Good thing Aylin's got that fashion taste and sense because I would've settled for a mu'umu'u (more often spelled as muumuu or mumu, is a loose dress of Hawaiian origin that hangs from the shoulder; see Homer fig.). After all, what the mu’umu’u lacks in style, it makes up in functionality, comfort, strength, and longevity and Aylin would still look wonderful in it, at least in my eyes.......:)
In the past 12 weeks, we've followed our bean child Ziggy the Zygote grow up to become Fethi the Fetus. How wondrous it is that a few cells can evolve so quickly into a baby in front of our eyes.
Going into the second trimester, it is even more amazing to find out that Fethi the Fetus has all 20 teeth already developed, the brain is not quite the size it will be upon birth but still fully formed, intestines are moving from the umbilical cord to the abdomen, and Fethi is practicing bowel movements, even the pancreas is secreting insulin.
The changes on Aylin's body are as exciting. Her body is very busy trying to accommodate Fethi the Fetus’ needs. As a result she had been feeling tired and sleepy which is very normal for the first trimester. Entering the second trimester, her lethargy should diminish as her placenta takes over hormone generation. Which is good because now that her clothes are no longer starting to fit her, she is going to need that extra energy for shopping for a new wardrobe.
About shopping, pregnancy.baby-gaga.com says:
"The good news is some fashion designers are realizing that being pregnant doesn’t mean you can’t look sharp, sexy, sporty, or whatever your particular style might be".
I've never seen Aylin not look sharp, sexy, sporty, or whatever her particular style do jour may be. She's got elan. Warning, here comes the grin, I even think she is more beautiful and sexy being pregnant. Heheee.
The same web site also states that this is no time to give up comfort and suffer for the sake of fashion. Good thing Aylin's got that fashion taste and sense because I would've settled for a mu'umu'u (more often spelled as muumuu or mumu, is a loose dress of Hawaiian origin that hangs from the shoulder; see Homer fig.). After all, what the mu’umu’u lacks in style, it makes up in functionality, comfort, strength, and longevity and Aylin would still look wonderful in it, at least in my eyes.......:)
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Baby Suck Brain
For those of you who have already gone through at least one pregnancy, I have one question.
Note to fathers: This question below is for the ladies only and is definitely not meant for an excuse or justification to any sort of mischief you might have been or would like to be voluntarily or inadvertently involved.
Here is the question. Did you experience any memory problems, forgetfullnes, or an unusual sensation of increased void in your cranium during your pregnancy?
Not that I've noticed Aylin having a problem with her memory but she mentioned a conversation she had with some of her coworkers today. They were wondering if she had started forgetting things as if this was the next step in her pregnancy. Of course, while Aylin was casually telling me about her day and this conversation, my morbid imagination was taking another direction and forming an image of zombie fetuses sucking mother brains for nourishment and all the while slowly transforming their mothers into zombies. Can that be real?
Baby need braiiiiiin......
Note to fathers: This question below is for the ladies only and is definitely not meant for an excuse or justification to any sort of mischief you might have been or would like to be voluntarily or inadvertently involved.
Here is the question. Did you experience any memory problems, forgetfullnes, or an unusual sensation of increased void in your cranium during your pregnancy?
Not that I've noticed Aylin having a problem with her memory but she mentioned a conversation she had with some of her coworkers today. They were wondering if she had started forgetting things as if this was the next step in her pregnancy. Of course, while Aylin was casually telling me about her day and this conversation, my morbid imagination was taking another direction and forming an image of zombie fetuses sucking mother brains for nourishment and all the while slowly transforming their mothers into zombies. Can that be real?
Baby need braiiiiiin......
Sunday, June 24, 2007
"Fundus"
As first time parents to be, we are immersed in books describing every single day of pregnancy to follow the development of our bean child. This has been extremely educational. Not only we are discovering a whole new universe within Aylin's body, at least I am, our vocabulary is also expanding. So is Aylin's belly but that's another story. I'll just say that apparently it was not the bananas foster.
At 9 weeks old Ember the Embryo, formerly known as Ziggy the Zygote, has grown into Fethi the Fetus. According to the books, Aylin's uterus is a little bigger than a grapefruit. Fethi is around 3 inches long and developing hands and legs. I was amazed to find out that at 9 weeks Fethi has already developed "bathroom" functions. Immediately this was a concern to me, because according to the floor plans of the uterus there are no bathrooms there.
While reading about how Aylin's body changes, we ran across a new word, "Fundus". Apparently the next checkup is going to look at the "height of the Fundus". It was a funny sounding word at first when parsed the two syllables read "Fund-Us". Was this checkup going to be about how much this child is going to cost? I was intrigued from the get go.
Thanks to Wikipedia which I think is the next best invention since the one after sliced bread, I found that "Fundus" is the Latin word for "bottom" and is commonly used anatomically as a generic term referring to the portion of an organ opposite from its opening. The fundal height of the uterus, measured from the top of the pubic bone, is used to determine growth rate of the baby. See fig. (also see, no bathrooms)
We are very anxious to find out all about Fethi the fetus and his fundus at the next checkup on the 27th of June.
At 9 weeks old Ember the Embryo, formerly known as Ziggy the Zygote, has grown into Fethi the Fetus. According to the books, Aylin's uterus is a little bigger than a grapefruit. Fethi is around 3 inches long and developing hands and legs. I was amazed to find out that at 9 weeks Fethi has already developed "bathroom" functions. Immediately this was a concern to me, because according to the floor plans of the uterus there are no bathrooms there.
While reading about how Aylin's body changes, we ran across a new word, "Fundus". Apparently the next checkup is going to look at the "height of the Fundus". It was a funny sounding word at first when parsed the two syllables read "Fund-Us". Was this checkup going to be about how much this child is going to cost? I was intrigued from the get go.
Thanks to Wikipedia which I think is the next best invention since the one after sliced bread, I found that "Fundus" is the Latin word for "bottom" and is commonly used anatomically as a generic term referring to the portion of an organ opposite from its opening. The fundal height of the uterus, measured from the top of the pubic bone, is used to determine growth rate of the baby. See fig. (also see, no bathrooms)
We are very anxious to find out all about Fethi the fetus and his fundus at the next checkup on the 27th of June.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
What a coincidence
One of the first people I told about Aylin being pregnant is Josh, one of my brothers. Yes I am an only child. But, as good ol' Weeze used to say, "we ain't related but we dooo be brothers." Although our friendship preceeds our working relationship, we could both say that we are fortunate to be working together for the past 9 years.
So, during my visit to the corporate offices last week, Josh was unusually aloof and that made me worry somewhat. I had expected a warm and enthusiastic greeting which I almost always get when I see him unless he is focused on work. I began to think if something I had done or not done had offended him in any way.
This feeling climaxed when he found me at a free concert downtown last Thursday and grabbed my arm firmly and pulled me away from other friends I was with. Just as I was bracing myself for a confrontation he gave me the most wonderful news that his wife Chrissy is also pregnant. And, she is due about the same time as Aylin. Just 2 days apart. Waaaaaaaa!!!!!!?
They had planned on breaking the news to their families on fathers day so he didn't want to spoil the surprise by telling me early. Rightly so. I had kept such a secret once long ago (Eric) and don't know if I had it in me to do it again, especially now with us having almost the same due date as them.
I still can't wipe the stupid grin off my face. I wish them luck, a wonderful healthy baby, and look forward to having our kids grow up together. Way to go Josh and Chrissy....:) And congratulations to Nancy and Stu....
So, during my visit to the corporate offices last week, Josh was unusually aloof and that made me worry somewhat. I had expected a warm and enthusiastic greeting which I almost always get when I see him unless he is focused on work. I began to think if something I had done or not done had offended him in any way.
This feeling climaxed when he found me at a free concert downtown last Thursday and grabbed my arm firmly and pulled me away from other friends I was with. Just as I was bracing myself for a confrontation he gave me the most wonderful news that his wife Chrissy is also pregnant. And, she is due about the same time as Aylin. Just 2 days apart. Waaaaaaaa!!!!!!?
They had planned on breaking the news to their families on fathers day so he didn't want to spoil the surprise by telling me early. Rightly so. I had kept such a secret once long ago (Eric) and don't know if I had it in me to do it again, especially now with us having almost the same due date as them.
I still can't wipe the stupid grin off my face. I wish them luck, a wonderful healthy baby, and look forward to having our kids grow up together. Way to go Josh and Chrissy....:) And congratulations to Nancy and Stu....
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Belly
Aylin noticed that her belly is starting to bulge a little bit. She had a little bit of trouble fitting into her skirt. I think it was the bananas foster that I made for her after dinner but she is sure that it is Ziggy's home that's getting bigger.
First Ultrasound 7weeks 2 days
To quote Aylin "we have a a bean for a child". I had named him Ziggy (Zygote) for the first stage of it's development. It's 9.1 mm long and now has a heart beat. I guess we'll have to change the name to Ember (Embryo) pretty soon. Aylin got to hear the heartbeat at the doctors office today but sadly I missed it due to being in transit from Rochester back to Tampa.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)