Modesty becomes you, little baby.
We went for our 20-week ultrasound yesterday, all set to find out if we were having a baby boy or girl. Q, 4, and Goose, 2, went with us and were more than happy to grant all interview requests by fellow patients in the waiting room regarding whether they would like a baby brother or baby sister.
The verdict on their end? A baby sister. Well now, when put on the spot, their true colors show. Yes, they had previously informed me that they would like a princess to play with, but you know how fickle toddler boys can be.
Though Q had told me in the parking lot on the way in that “If we have a girl, I’m going to freak out!” and then did a little dance of excitement.
The family that went in ahead of us brought six of their relatives to view the ultrasound. Six! I was self-conscious bringing my husband and two little boys. It was like a party in there.
Our turn rolled around and I began the “healthy baby, healthy baby” chant in my head. I didn’t realize how nervous I was until I found myself white-knuckle gripping the sides of the table as I positioned myself on my back. I think all of my ambivalence had come crashing down on me and I was afraid God would make me pay for not embracing this pregnancy from moment one.
I was unwillingly envisioning things like hearts outside of rib cages and missing appendages. God doing the “shame shame, I know your name” finger waggle. I know God doesn’t roll like that, but have I mentioned that I’m pregnant?
As it turns out, punishment does not come crashing down on the heads of mothers who don’t immediately get their heads on straight. The most beautiful image filled the screen and settled into my heart:
All organs accounted for and in their rightful place. Our baby is growing just as it should be, due date remaining right on target.
Now then, what color blankets should I buy? Am I still the resident damsel-in-distress or will I be relegated to evil queen?
Tech with more than a decade of experience: Hmmmm, looks like you have a girl.
Jordans: utter and complete silence
Tech: Er, okay, let me look another way. The baby is on her side, so it’s hard… Yep, you have a girl.
Jordans: blank, uncomprehending stares
Tech: See here? These two white lines? Those are the labia.
Megan: Well, see, I’m used to seeing a very, um, prominent package. You know, like “PATOW! It’s a boy! Obviously.” I just want to be sure.
Tech: I really think it’s a girl. I do.
After the party of ultrasound-watchers before us, she was probably wondering what was wrong with our little family of disbelievers.
Q was standing next to my head, so I turned to him and asked, “Are we freaking out?!” To which he answered with a smile so big I’m surprised he could talk, “I’m freaking out!”
And then I heard it.
Maguire: Wait, that looks like a boy to me.
The tech had moved her magic wand and revealed, well, a lump. That sure did look like balls, people.
Sigh. My heart is going to explode.
Tech: You know, I thought it was just swollen labia, but maybe that is scrotum.
Thus began twenty minutes of pushing and prodding and sighing and my brain leaking out of my ears.
The tech finally called the doctor in.
Doctor: Yep, you have a boy.
Jordans: utter and complete silence
Doctor: See, that is a small scrotum.
Jordans: blank, uncomprehending stares… mostly because we tend to make, um, fairly large scrotums.
Doctor: It’s a boy. I know the tech said she thinks it’s a girl because of those white lines, but it’s too blurry to tell.
Maguire: So would you put money on that it’s a boy?
Doctor: Well, no. I want you to come back.
Megan: In two hours? (all hope and power focused on my jedi mind tricks)
Doctor: No, in four weeks.
At which point, he began wiping off the jelly from my belly.
Megan: You getting ready to put on fresh jelly?
Doctor: gently grabbing my wrist and pulling me from the table, as they had already closed for lunch 20 minutes earlier… No, you are leaving and I’ll see you in four weeks.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, the evidence:
We have a healthy, strong, very sneaky trouble-making baby. That was a girl for all of five minutes and now stands as a boy. Or not.
As Q explains it, “The scientist said it is a girl. The doctor said it is a boy. But I’m telling you, there is no winky.” (that thing in the middle is the umbilical cord, as no, there were no winky-sightings yesterday)
I could tell you all of the emotions I felt at each determination, but honestly, I think I’m hiding them from myself. I so believe in the power of a mother’s mind while she is carrying her baby, that I could not let any one gender take root for fear of it being wrong.
So four weeks. Can we deal?
I have no idea.
Now then, for those of you that have had girl ultrasounds:
What in heaven do you see when it’s a girl?