More cheek time with hospital chairs

So when Jude was sent to the emergency room this week we didn't have time to pack cushions, or e-books or any of the things that make interminable waits on hard plastic chairs that little more bearable. Instead we hunkered down, we bought terrible magazines from elderly volunteers who see counting change as a kind of zen sudoku, we watched the people to fat too fit in the seats, yet too fat to stand do little circles.

Actually they were fast - day one. They checked us in, registered us, listened to the baby's heartbeat, made an appointment for a thorough ultra-scan and then let us go. The next day took longer, scan, move, wait for results, wait for injection, wait to see whether there was a reaction to the injection.

The good news is that the scans were all good, Jude is fine, the baby is fine and it looks as though it might well be a boy. The bad news - boy's names are HARD. I fancy recycling a Coco, a Lulu or a Lili. Jude's less certain. So instead we start the search for a boy's name that won't lead to fights (sorry Sioux, sorry Gaye Mary), won't sound too Sarah Palin (bye bye Thak, Thud, Skud and Moses) and won't get the kid internally searched at airports (ciao Jorge, Jihaad, Mosef)... I'm currently stuck on Berlinn... will try to get past that.