I can hardly believe we missed our chance to find out whether Vegas is a boy or a girl. We didn’t want to know. We were firm on that. But in the aftermath of the ultrasound, I’ve found myself thinking. Ah, if we’d just found out, it would have been so exciting. And let’s face it, there isn’t much exciting going on right now.
D is coping with a troupe of symptoms that I thought we abandoned neatly in the 14th week. Off-kilter hormones, dizziness, aches and pains. Granted, I knew they’d be back, but I didn’t know they would mimic the first trimester so perfectly. If I couldn’t see that creeping bump, I’d claim she was 8 weeks in. Throw in queasiness (I know. It’s in no way fair.) and a newly active 1 pounder and she’s a little frazzled.
So in the sonographer’s office (yeah, I called her an ultrasound tech when we were in there. I feel badly about it. I’m sure that’s some sonographer faux pas) we decided to settle into the murk of middle pregnancy and didn’t ask to see the sex. But we did find out a few other things:
1) Doctors take leg pain very seriously. I’ve never seen a pants leg shoved up so fast as when D mentioned she had some lower leg pain – probably from a spider bite.
2) Spider bites hurt. Apparently, forever.
3) The latest doctor, Dr. H, is equally as good as Dr. Ahnold. Now we’re 4 for 5.
4) Vegas is immensely uncooperative. He resists all requests to move, including but not limited to the Hokey Pokey, hard jabs, shaking, being tipped upside down, rough massaging and stern language. He particularly resists me. He curls into a ball when ultrasounded. But he has the boogie woogie fever when it’s just him and his mother.
So now we’re in the dark, literally, for the foreseeable future. It’s equal parts exciting and terrifying.