You know I’m gonna make you wait for it.
Please forgive the brevity here. I forced S to let me stop on a coffee shop with free computers and Internet access so I could tell you all, my beloved Internets who have been with me through all the dramatic and quiet moments of this process, both TTC and during both pregnancies. I will let go of trying to make a perfect post here. I have 10 minutes.
First, thank you a from the depths of my being for all of your support and for sticking with me through all of my neuroses. Especially lately when I a dealing with all of these luxurious problems. I am truly brought to tears right here over my decaf latte, in front of all the cool kids in this cafe. Thank you.
The technician was late. When we finally got called back, S had to pee. Of course. Right then. Take your time honey.
While she was gone I had an interesting exchange with the tech. Normally this type of exchange would irritate me because I’m big on the feel your feelings crap. For some reason though, it just set me straight. Gave me the perspective I needed.
Me: Just so you know, we are DYING to know the sex.
Her: Great. Just please don’t be disappointed. You have a 50% chance it will be what you want.
Her: You know, you might not get what you want. You’ll get what you need.
That was that. I just kinda relaxed for the first time. Again, in another circumstance this would have bugged the shit out of me. Like DON’T tell me how to feel lady. Instead, I relaxed into the idea that I would get what I needed. I knew I would be happy no matter what. I knew instantly (thank you Bossy Ultrasound Chick) that I was not going to be disappointed. Miracles happen people.
Then S came back in, just in time to miss the whole conversation. The ultrasound began, and from the first fuzzy black and white peek I knew I loved it. Boy. Girl. Whatever. A living, kicking baby with all the right parts. The beating heart set me right over the edge.
Ultrasound chick started measuring, clicking buttons, zooming in. I was on the edge of my seat, but the receptionist told me it would be a 40 minute ultrasound, so I wasn’t holding my breath. We looked at the spine, the tailbone, some pretty little organs. I was happy. An alive baby, people. My baby. Our baby.
Then, out of no where Bossy Ultrasound Chick says:
“Ladies…you are having a girl.”