It's 1:23 CST.
I'm fixing connection errors at my desk in the soon-to-be nursery, waiting to hear back from another IT guy on the west coast who's pulling an on-call shift tonight like me.
I can't stop thinking about what I might find out when the sun comes up. I think it's sinking in that I'm going to be a father of little humans.
We have our first shot at finding out which flavors of humans we're getting, boys or girls, in six and a half hours. I'm really hoping the ultrasound shows us something conclusive.
Honestly, the tech could tell me anything at all for all I can make out in the ultrasounds I've seen. They look like the amateur grainy videos of aliens you see in the UFO shows on tv where it could be an extraterrestrial or it could be a cloud of swamp gas.
On the show they bring out a 'UFO Expert' who motions to the top of the cloud with a laser pointer and says, "There you can see the alien's head."
At least the ultrasound tech doesn't use a laser pointer.
There are a lot of things that come along with this waiting process. A lot of confusing stuff inside that I think I'm only allowing myself glimpses of.
I've started to try to imagine how they'll look. I've started to picture myself holding them. I'm very slowly wrapping my head around it. Slow motion osmosis that this is really happening in reality, in actuality, in real-time.
It is a confusing cocktail of feelings.
And there's west coast IT calling on the phone and saving me from trying to flesh that last sentence out.