Well, yesterday was the amnio and major big ultrasound. Peter got me off on the even wrong-er foot by asking if we could stop for coffee on the way to the appointment.
"You want to drink coffee. While they stick a gigantic needle. In my placenta." I monotoned through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, I'd like some coffee," he said, oblivious.
"YOU CANNOT DRINK COFFEE DURING MY AMNIO. THAT IS UNSANITARY. AND WAY TOO CASUAL!!" I erupted.
"Jeez, okay, fine," he huffed.
I was wound up enough about the appointment. I was not a fan of getting a needle stuck in my belly, and little babe's chill space getting un-chilled by said needle. Peter's coffee request just put me over the top. Still, the amnio only took about thirty seconds, at the most, and Dr. Maier, who I adore, did the procedure. The ultrasound technician, Connie, cooed, "You are so good," as he did it.
"I bet you say that to all the doctors," he joked.
"No, I certainly do not," she said, in complete seriousness.
I didn't watch the needle go in, though Peter did, and seemed unaffected. I did, however, watch every second of the fifteen-minute ultrasound, which explains the crick in my neck. Which is how I learned this disappointing news:
My baby girl has a penis.
I'd started to suspect that she was a he a couple of weeks ago. I confessed as much to Elly in hushed, scandalized tones, to which she replied, "Ew, gross!" Still, I really was pulling for a baby girl. Peter, apparently, was not. When the coy baby finally uncrossed his legs and showed us his junk, Peter jumped up, pumped his fist, and yelled, "Yes!"
Connie noted, "Every father does that." I was still horrified.
I'm excited though. I'm a total tomboy, and I would be freaked about having a super girly girl. And we can try for a girl, if Peter's damnable sperm decides to cooperate with the gender of my choice.
The good, good news is that every single marker looked perfect. Four chambers of the heart were pumping away and beautifully so. The brain's two lobes looked great. The organs were all on the correct sides. There were 10 fingers and 10 toes. And he wriggled around a bunch. I am so proud that our baby is growing so well!
And doesn't he have a damn handsome profile?
We get the results back in two weeks, and I am praying that everything is fine. But I assume they could see anything super bad on the ultrasound . . . and baby seems healthy enough, and is doing fine, I think, from what I feel in my body and my heart.
I am very excited and thankful that baby is doing so well.
In other news, we had a visit from Zeus.
And I am really digging dressing like a sexless round person. This "Nina Marie Pour la Mama" denim jumper is from Sears, likely 1980 or so, and was discovered at the Bessemer, MI, St. VIncent de Paul in August. I was giddy with excitement about it. Pair it with striped knee socks and a striped shirt from Moni, and I look like a total nerdface. Hot stuff!
Oh, one final note: When I called Mom and told her the news, the twins were in the car, too (my seven year old siblings, Forrest and Grace). "Elka's having a boy!" Mom yelled to them. And all chaos erupted: Forrest made the exact same noises Peter had, lots of "Yes! Yes!"ing in a deep boy voice, while behind him I heard Grace wailing. She'd just sent me a pink onesie with a fuzzy leopard rhinestone-collared kitty on it. We both wanted a girl. Grace, you should know that my friend Jen's baby Ginger will happily wear the onesie, and they are both very excited about it.
Mom emailed me this morning to report that Forrest has named the baby Chester Spoerl. I don't think we're ready to commit to Chester, but we are taking suggestions for baby boy names, since I have very few good ideas. So let's hear em!