Dainty little things...

Because the quad screening for neural tube defects was slightly abnormal, our doctor sent us to a perinatologist for a Level 4 Ultrasound. That week between when my doctor called and told us about the screening and the ultrasound appointment was near-torturous with all the "what-ifs" rolling around in our minds. I was nervous.

The perinatologist's office was very nice. A few minutes after arriving, we were ushered into an office with a tiny Asian woman sitting behind a large mahogany desk. She introduced herself as a genetic counselor and proceeded to recite all the rehearsed information about birth defects and genetic testing. The husband was not impressed and started to get annoyed, especially about the sell on the amniocentesis. (Shudder.)

It felt like ages before we were finally directed to the ultrasound room. The GE machine was an impressive thing with two little button at the top of a complex keyboard saying "3D" and "4D." (He never did the 4D thing, by the way. I don't know how much more expensive that would have been if he'd pushed that one button.)

I have to admit, when the perinatologist came in, I was taken aback by how good looking he was! Seriously... I was glad this was only an ultrasound and something not more "invasive," if you know what I mean. Clear goo on the stomach and voila! There's the little person!

About halfway through he checked the for gender. The little thing's legs were tightly pressed together straight down. He jiggled my tummy with the scanner a bit saying, "Oh... so modest!" Made me giggle. He may or may not have figured it out then, but he didn't say anything till the end. Through the rest of the ultrasound he was efficient and thorough and explained what he was looking for, although the screen and scanning was so clear, we could pretty much tell what it all was. He also threw in a few bits of information about "possibilities" of various defects and that an amniocentesis was the only way to be sure, etc. etc. All in all, Baby Crowe is growing fine and healthy.

At the end, he asked me, "So do you know what the baby's gender is?" I glanced over at Daddy Crowe sitting casually in the chair next to the table where I was reclined and said, "Well, he's convinced it's a boy."

Doctor said, "What do you think? Take a guess."  

"Is it a boy?" I wasn't so sure.

"Wanna guess again?"

A wave of jubilation rushed from my head to my toes. "It's a girl?!"

I had been thinking bow ties and mini-man suits and stressing over extremely difficult-to-find non-animal boy clothing since Day 1. All of that suddenly lifted like a weight from my shoulders. I hadn't even given myself the enjoyment of the thought we would be having a girl!

Perfect Little Feet

T, a dear friend who has two little girls of her own, was hoping to heaven it was a girl and had even gone shopping during the day. She came over that evening with her spoils she bought before we had even found out - an adorable pink outfit with dainty, tiny ruffles on the bum.

Part of me still has a hard time believing this little person is a girl. It's a little too good to be true. You mean... I really get to think about "hair pretties" (as T calls them), and ruffles, and pretty soft dresses and other little classy dainty things?

The doctor burned the whole ultrasound session on a DVD for us to take home (and bring back for the follow-up section). I've watched it twice since, and honestly I can't really tell. I think I need to go watch it again.