It didn’t happen when Leah told me she was pregnant. That day I said something like: “Go buy another test. Get a digital one. I don’t care that you saved $3.” She bought and took a digital test and apparently the analogue pregnancy test had worked. She was definitely pregnant. The digital test even knew how pregnant she was—2 weeks. But I can’t say that I really connected with that information immediately.
It happened 3 months later. How many ultrasounds pictures have you seen? I can’t seem to get away from them on Facebook. They are about as meaningless as a QR code. It’s robot language. Actually, it’s sound language. But, to me, it’s nonsense. I’ve never connected with an ultrasound picture. Even now.
So let me be clear—I’ve never literally been butt chugged:
Similar to a beer bong, but the consumption of beer is rectally, using a funnel and tube to administer the beer as an enema. The primary purpose of butt chugging as opposed to drinking beer is that alcohol administered as an enema has 3x the effect of alcohol taken orally.
It’s a term I picked up from my friend, Ken. Apparently Ken knows a guy who knows a guy who did it. And one beer was enough to obliterate this guy. Even just imagining it makes me shudder. Awful, but if you really needed to get drunk in a pinch… butt chugging could be your saviour. You likely have the necessary tools at home. I digress. Ken introduced it to me as a metaphor. We aren’t that close. (We totally are.)
For 3 months Leah was sick and I was trying to comprehend what is about to happen to me. Wait, let me rephrase that. For 3 months Leah was sick and I was ever at her side, doing everything a perfect husband would do… Actually, in retrospect, Leah went to bed a lot earlier and I suddenly had a lot of free time to play computer games.
I knew the ultrasound appointment was coming up, but the night before I had forgotten about it. Also, I stayed up late playing video games. (There is a theme developing there but I say we don’t acknowledge it.)
We woke up (late) and we rushed to the clinic. I don’t remember driving there, but I do remember that the ultrasound clinic was in the basement. We went down to a small office and into a smaller waiting room and finally into a tiny, dark exam room with a large, humming ultrasound machine that was keeping the room very warm.
Ken uses the term “butt chugged” to mean a moment when you have a revelation or realize a new idea that destroys your mind or radically changes the way you think—in the same way that injecting alcohol into your body through your ass would destroy your mind (kids! (future child of mine!)). We also used the term somewhat comically. For instance, I might say that “Inception totally butt chugged me.” That would be an acceptable use, I think.
In the ultrasound room—where it’s dark, warm—I was in a comfortable chair and Leah was on the bed. I was barely staying awake. The technician came in and asked Leah to lift up her shirt and, just like you see in the movies, she squirted some goop on her and put the wand to her stomach.
At first it was nonsense. But the technician knew what to look for and she quickly found my little dragon. And it wasn’t a QR code on a piece of paper. It was moving. It had little arms waving. It squirmed and danced. I hope I was smiling, but my mouth was probably gaping wide open and drool may have hit the floor.
I apologize for the following language—my brain fucking melted. I was totally and utterly butt chugged.
You know those assholes (sorry assholes) who say “oh, it’s different when it’s yours”. That’s an irresponsible sentence. No one told me that it was going to fry and rewire every circuit in my brain.
I cried. It was the must beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It was a revelation. And now I was awake, but speechless, barely able to comprehend what I was seeing. That baby ruined my whole day. I was totally useless. That little heart flickering. The spine developing. Life has never seemed so special and I spend a lot of time reading Cute Overload. What are you supposed to do after receiving information like that? I don’t know, but it changed everything.
I’m happy, quite late and excited to personally announce that Leah is (6 months) pregnant. She is due mid November and we just saw the doctor this week and the baby is happy, healthy and totally normal—for now.
And you all can feel free to start calling me “Big Poppa”.
P.S. “It” is a girl.