So I went to the perinatologist today (the high-risk pregnancy doctor, for those of you not familiar with the term). It’s been a month since my last ultrasound, the one where we found out we’re having another boy (also known as the ultrasound where all my pink sparkly dreams withered away to oblivion). But we’ve adjusted to the idea and were looking forward to seeing our little guy again.
The ultrasound tech measured all the vital stuff first; head, abdomen, heart, kidneys, etc. Then she said she’d take a peek between the legs again to verify the baby’s sex.
This is my third high-risk pregnancy and I’ve become rather adept at figuring out the blobs and splotches on the screen. So when she couldn’t really find anything between the legs, and made a screen shot of what looked like three lines down there, she said, “I don’t know. That’s looking like a girl to me.”
I was shocked, never considering the possibility that the previous tech could’ve been wrong because I know what I saw, too. And that time, I saw the little “turtle” sticking out, plain as day.
Still, we were determined to find out the answer once and for all, so I subjected myself to at least ten minutes of hard probing to find out. This baby has been stubborn at every ultrasound. At 11 weeks, when they needed to measure the fold of skin on the back of his neck, he stubbornly remained standing on his head, facing outward. My wiggling, jiggling, coughing, NOTHING worked to shift his position. For 45 minutes he stayed just like that, moving an arm or leg to let us know he was alive, but refusing to flip over.
And today I went, longing for that adorable profile shot of his face that every pregnant mom longs for. In true form, he was either facing my back or facing straight out the entire time. We got one head-on shot of his face that looks like a spooky alien skull. And that’s about it.
Finally, when my bladder was about to burst from all her pressing and the pressure within, she saw between the legs and verified that it is indeed, a boy. I guess the “three lines” shot was just his little butt or something? Because once again that little turtle was unmistakable.
What was neat, though, was to realize that I didn’t feel glee over thinking it might actually be a girl. I felt so strange, like I wouldn’t know what to do if I did have a daughter now. I’ve had a month to redefine myself as the mom of three sons. So while it was funny, it kind of wasn’t, ya know?
Still no idea what to name the child. I think I should find something that means “dramatic” or “drove mama crazy before birth.” THAT fits!