Methobaby

Strategically, we placed this visit to the “Baby Place” the day after we got back from vacation–it gave us something to look forward to coming home.  As you can see, our child is awfully photogenic.  The trip was awfully uneventful.  The sonogram tech was in just a wonderful mood–not!  Remember the adage about not buying a car made on Monday or Friday?  Same goes for sonograms.  Oh, she did her job just fine.  You could just tell that she was ready to get out of the office and (possibly) start thinking “It’s 5 o’clock, somewhere”.

For the important stuff, Baby is fine.  All the measurements are right in 50-54 percentile (the only time in my life when I want my child to be mediocre).  Length, heart rate, cranial circumference, and a ton other measurements.  Baby is 14 ounces (give or take).  That’s about the weight of a can of Coca Cola.

I was particularly amused by this other photo.  Now, logic tells us that Baby is getting ready to insert thumb in mouth.  But for the life of me, this looks like Baby is about to break out into song!  Finally, we have lead singer for our Rock Band group.

 But the coup de gras was that this was the trip to the “Baby Place” where we could find out the gender of Baby.  We went back and forth about this.  On the one hand, it would be nice to know for planning purposes (there’s another post in the offing about how we’ve regressed back into exclusively gender-specific and gender-role specific decorating, but that’s for later).  On the other hand, there’s something neat about being surprised “on the day” at the hospital.  So, in typical family fashion, we hemmed and hawed about it for the better part of two months.  

Finally, we admitted to each other that we would like to know.

So back to the tech that was in a wonderful mood.  As she was very clinically going about taking measurements (did I mention how dismissive she was when we were asking questions?), she was frustrated that Baby is butt-down and in a really good diver’s “tuck” position.  Who knows, maybe Baby will go to the Olympics!  Anyway, we we got down to the “business” parts to determine gender.  She was very dismissive. and drool.  I was like, “come on, Lady.  I’m about to find out if I’m having a little boy or little girl.  At least feign excitement.”  All she said was, “well, I can’t tell really.  Your baby is breech and has its feet over its head.  I can’t tell what the gender is (no sorry, no nothing).

Disappointed Peanut.

But then, the doctor came in.  She was excited about Baby Place upgrading their technology so that the doc could see the tech do her job from the confines of her office.  So she didn’t have to do a second ultrasound (darn).  She went over all the important stuff… all the organs are there and normal.  And then she asked about gender.  We said the tech said she couldn’t tell.  Asking if we were interested in her taking a second look, we jumped at the opportunity.

After about 20 seconds, Doc was able to get the right and and point out that, without a doubt, we’re having a little 

(wait for it)

girl.