I saw my son dance for the first time today. Well, OK, it wasn't exactly a dance. It was more of a wiggle. So, technically, I say my son wiggled for the first time today. And as long as we're being honest with each other, I don't actually know if it was my son. It might have been my daughter. I guess it would be most accurate to say that I saw my child wiggle for the first time today. That might not sound like a big deal to most parents out there, as I understand that most children actually wiggle quite often and do their fair share of dancing. But to my wife and I, it was probably the biggest moment of our lives so far.

Our wiggling child hasn't actually been born yet. In fact, he is not even scheduled for arrival until New Year's Day 2004. We don't know for sure when he is going to arrive, but we do know for sure when he was conceived – April 9, 2003. It is the circumstances of his conception that have allowed us to get to know him so well. In the meantime, we have gotten to know him fairly well via ultrasound images. My wife, Charlotte, is about 9 weeks pregnant and isn't even showing yet. But I know that my son is 24 millimeters long and has a huge head and tiny hands. And based on recent evidence, he seems to have inherited a few of his father's rather unfortunate dance moves.

I have taken to calling him our son not out of any preference or prejudice. There seems to be a practice among expectant parents to provide the developing fetus with a rather silly moniker. I guess it's a fun way of acknowledging the humanity of the womb's new tenant. From my family and friends alone, we have anxiously awaited the arrival of Sprinkle, Beatrice, Earl, Cletus, Beauregard, KiKi and Mr. Washerson. I do not know how this tradition started, but ask any pregnant woman or expectant father, and I'm betting that they have a goofy name for their unborn child. Of course, the nickname disappears once the sex of the baby is known. (I have yet to use "Sprinkle" when referring to my nephew, Josh, for example.) For no particular reason, our wiggling child has been called "Sherman" pretty much from the time that we got a positive result on the pregnancy test. Therefore, we have been referring to the fetus as a male.

Charlotte and I have gotten our rather unique opportunity to view the dancing fever of a 9-week-old fetus due to the fact that ours is considered a high-risk pregnancy. It took us a little more than four years to finally conceive Sherman, with a lot of help from a varicocelecto my, a battery of tests and, ultimately, six IUI (intrauterine insemination) procedures. We had agreed that we were going to try IUI one more time before moving on to something more involved, like IVF (in vitro fertilization). We went through with it, hopeful but not optimistic. Char had developed a cyst from using Clomid during her previous cycle, and until the day preceding the insemination, we weren't even sure the cyst would have shrunk enough to make conception a possibility.

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