Thumper

The baby's heartbeat sounded like the bass in a techno song. Like a sprinter's heart before the starter pistol goes off. Like yours the first time you got kissed.

My first real kiss happened in kindergarten. I remember it perfectly. Her name was Gretchen, and she was a total hottie.

Wompa Wompa Wompa. That's how Julie described the heart sound.

They used a microphone hooked up to a little speaker. I bet the OB/GYNs have karaoke contests with them after hours, with songs like "Baby Baby" by Amy Grant.

First she spread the goo on Julie's stomach. They use that goo for everything. It's like the doctor on Seinfeld who tells you to take off your pants for every procedure. "Sore throat, huh? Take off your pants." With gynos, it's "Nice to meet you, husband Dan. Let me just squirt goo on my hand before I shake yours."

Then she rubbed the microphone on the goo, and before long there was that Wompa Wompa Wompa. Julie teared up, I kept cool, and then we were done. But I must admit, for a second there my heart was going just like it did that day in kindergarten.