Evelyn’s Log: It Should Be Illegal for Sonogram Techs to Make Jokes
Date: [I Have Never Felt More Fear in My Life]
Log ID: Evelyn Kerensky-Reynolds (This is supposed to be a routine appointment, and yet here we are.)
I would like to preface this entry by saying that I am a strong woman.
I have endured battlefields.
I have survived wars, assassins, and galactic intrigue.
I have navigated the insanity that is being married to Reynolds.
And yet—
Yet nothing in my life has ever filled me with more immediate, existential terror than what happened today.
Because today, I had my first sonogram.
And the technician thought they were funny.
Phase One: The Appointment That Started Normally Enough
I went in alone.
Reynolds was dealing with some Council nonsense.
Bandit was forbidden from coming for obvious reasons.
Goldie and Vicky wanted to be there, but I told them I’d just send updates.
So there I was.
Lying on the examination table.
Watching the screen.
Listening to the sonogram tech chatter away in that too-cheerful voice that medical professionals use when they know you’re nervous.
"Oh, congratulations! First baby?"
"Yes."
"Aw, wonderful! Let’s get a look at them, shall we?"
Everything was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
Phase Two: The Joke That Almost Killed Me
The sonogram tech moved the probe.
The screen showed the first image.
I exhaled.
One.
I saw one.
Thank God.
And then—
Then this absolute lunatic had the audacity to say—
"Oh! I think I see another one!"
I froze.
My entire body locked up.
My brain stopped processing oxygen.
I whipped my head toward them, eyes wide, voice an octave too high.
"You THINK?!"
The tech blinked.
Then they laughed.
"Oh, no, no, I was just kidding! It’s just one!"
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A long silence.
And then, in the calmest voice I have ever used in my entire life,
"It should be illegal for sonogram techs to make jokes."
Phase Three: The Fallout of My Near-Death Experience
? The tech apologized profusely.
? I could hear my own pulse in my ears for a full ten minutes afterward.
? I did not commit any crimes, but only because I needed to know the results.
? It is, in fact, one baby.
? I have never been closer to a full breakdown in my life.
And then—
Then I had to call Reynolds.
Phase Four: My Husband’s Immediate Reaction
"Hey, how’d it go?"
"I am going to kill someone."
"…Okay, not the update I expected."
"Do you know what the sonogram tech said to me?"
"Something medical and reassuring?"
"No. NO. They said, and I quote, ‘Oh! I think I see another one!’ AND THEN THEY LAUGHED."
Silence.
Then, in the most shaken voice I have ever heard my husband use—
"Wait. Wait. WAIT. ARE YOU SAYING—"
"NO, IT’S JUST ONE. BUT I ALMOST DIED BEFORE THEY CLARIFIED THAT."
Reynolds went silent again.
Then, very softly:
"Evelyn, sweetheart, light of my life, I think my soul just left my body."
"Oh, join the club."
Phase Five: The Aftermath
? I had to sit in the exam room for an extra five minutes just to get my heart rate back to normal.
? I texted Bandit, and his response was just, ‘Damn. I lost the bet.’
? Vicky laughed for a full minute straight.
? Goldie told me, ‘Well, that is a relief, but I do not understand why this is funny.’
? Reynolds came home, poured himself a drink, stared at a wall for ten minutes, and muttered, ‘I am not built for this level of stress.’
I am never going to emotionally recover from this.
Final Thoughts (It’s Just One, It’s Just One, It’s Just One—)
? There is only one baby.
? I have aged ten years in one afternoon.
? Sonogram techs should have their comedy privileges revoked.
? Reynolds and I are not built for this level of suspense.
? Bandit is, somehow, the only one not disappointed.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
But I do know this—
If one more person makes a joke about this pregnancy,
I will be taking hostages.
End Log.
