The ultrasound and the fury

Last week, we finally had our “anatomy scan” ultrasound done. Let me begin by saying WOW. This was undeniably one of the coolest things I’ve ever experienced. The gender mystery aside, it is remarkable to see so much detail of your kid’s little body. The ultrasound tech went through and counted all the little bones, zoomed in on the face to ensure we didn’t have a kiddo with cleft lip, checked for 2 kidneys, examined the feet to make sure everything was straight, and even peeked inside the baby’s noggin. With each scan, measurements were taken and apparently plugged into all sorts of formulas to make sure that growth and development were within normal ranges (they were).
Over the previous week, I had been feeling the kid’s movements a lot more strongly and frequently. It didn’t disappoint during the scan. It moved, wiggled, rattled, and shook throughout. While trying to capture a shot of the heart’s 4 chambers and associated valves, our offspring simply would not cooperate. We could all see that the required structures were there, but the baby was simply camera shy. The tech called even our child “a rascal,” and said to me, “I pity you in another month or two.” Even so, we got all kinds of wonderful photos, including my favorite: 2 little balled fists of fury.
Now on to the gender. We actually got that first thing, as the first view on the screen was basically our baby’s butt and bits. My gut had told me “boy” for at least a month. Don’t ever listen to me when placing bets at the horse track. Plain as day, Will and I were looking at girl bits. I didn’t have time to think much about the gender thing until later, as you really do just become transfixed by what you see on that screen and, fortunately for us, relieved that all is well – that all the little toes and body parts are cooking up just fine. Later, I did panic.
I’m kind of embarrassed about it, as A) I’ve always felt like I was a fairly competent chick, and B) my mother certainly raised me to be very “girl power” and all. Still, my first thought was “Oh shit.” Immediately, I began to have nightmares of a princess-type girl screaming about wanting to be in the beauty pageant, or a scowling teenager knocked up or wasting away with an eating disorder, or a 20-something-year-old demanding a $15,000 wedding. Let’s be honest: in some ways –not all – there are more potential pitfalls for the girls.
Then I shook myself and smacked myself in the forehead. I didn’t fall into any of those stereotypes. I scoffed at pageants and cheerleaders. I somehow made it into my 30’s without a pregnancy, much less an eating disorder. And we eloped to Vegas where our wedding ceremony (including pics, video, venue, and flowers) cost a grand total of $599 plus tax. I’m in a field that, up until recently, has been very male-dominated. I like to go camping. I can handle a firearm. And yes, I can get dressed up, go to dinner at a very nice restaurant, and feel comfortable while I dine with the correct fork.
We have vowed that we will expose our little girl to everything we possibly can. She will camp when she’s a toddler. Will is already planning on flashcards to teach her the difference between a bulldozer and a front-end-loader (since I refuse to be bothered with that). She’ll know how to put her napkin in her lap, whether she’s at Bobby Flay’s joint or McDonalds.
In the meantime, I’ve found the most awesome skull-and-crossbones onesies with matching red tutus. Oh yes.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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