Back Home Again in Indiana
I swore this blog wasn’t going to turn into all knocked up all the time, and yet. . . . Whatever. This is my life now.
Let’s talk about what we learned at the ultrasound. (This is where I would insert a picture from the ultrasound, but let’s be real – no one needs to see my uterus other than the people I texted/emailed it to. . .and even that was questionable.)
It is, in fact, a human in there. We were slightly disappointed; I was pulling for koala and Jesse was pulling for bulldog, but I guess we’ll settle for human. I mean, it would be a little ridiculous to turn around this far in and all.
This child firmly believes my bladder is a pillow and/or mattress. At least one of us is comfortable.
The ultrasound tech can tell how full your bladder is. She was impressed with how much I can hold.
They really kind of don’t care about what dad wants. She asked me if we wanted to find out the sex (you’re welcome for the correct terminology, Uncle Morty), and when I told her no, she yelled at Jesse to turn around when she went to check the legs.
When you tell people you’re not finding out if it’s a boy or girl until it pops out, they either look at you like you’re insane or say, “Good for you!” (The last one is the preferred response by the way. Also acceptable: telling me how brave I am. It makes me feel like a fire fighter.)
3D ultrasounds are a little less creepy when it’s your own kid. Still creepy. Just not quite as much.
We were questioning the maternity of this kid until his arm placement told us he was 100% over the ultrasound and we were stressing him out. 100% my child.