The operation went off without a hitch. Kristin got to experience some wondrous drugs and I got to watch a pink wrinkled thing emerge from a gaping wound in her stomach. (Sorry, there's just nothing pleasant about it.) Funny enough, we hadn't known the sex of the baby and it didn't even occur to me to look closely enough to see until Kristin's hazy voice said, "What's the sex? What's the sex?" I got to cut the umbilical cord (which added to the unpleasantness) and our bundle of joy was weighed and measured before being carted off to have his DNA recorded in the secret CIA database and an alien mind control chip implanted in his head (that's standard medical procedure nowadays, I presume).
Soon enough we were all together again in a room, each wondering what the future held.
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