Last week, I had my mid-pregnancy ultrasound. It was so cool to see the four-chambered heart (beating!), the spinal cord, the wee fingers and toes, and the gigantic brain. Not a dry eye in the house!
And guess what?
The ultrasound tech showed us a perfect shot between the legs and asked what I thought. “OH,” I shrieked, “IT’S A BOY!”
I had been feeling girl all along, so, you know, science wins again and I do not appear to have a mother’s intuition for the sex of my unborn baby.
A while later I was talking to a neighbour friend and she wondered why I didn’t want to be surprised (which seems like a judgmental thing to say, now that I write it out, but actually it didn’t seem odd at the time and she’s really quite nice). I responded only that it WAS a surprise! I’ve wondered for weeks (or months, or even years depending on how you set the parametres) what the sex of my firstborn will be, and surprise! It will be a BOY! That’s a surprise if ever there was a surprise.
And in case you’re wondering what I look like at 19 weeks, the answer is large and in charge: