This weekend I am having my first baby shower. Premature? Possibly. In T-shirts you still can't tell I'm pregnant. But when it's your last chance to be around family until Jr. comes, you take it.
Last Friday I had a doctor's appointment and mentioned this to him and asked if it was possible to have my 20-week ultrasound a week and a half early so we could find out the gender for the baby shower.
"No." The kind of "no" that is not open to negotiations.
Sure, if there's a problem, they can see it better after 20 weeks, blah blah blah, but obviously the man has never doomed his child to wearing exclusively yellow and green.
So we took matters into our own hands and went out that night to a commercial ultrasound place and splurged a little on our own ultrasound.
|Nobody panic. Our child does, in fact, have legs.|
This place is such a better experience than hospital ultrasounds. You lay on a bed with sheets and pillows. They have couches for your family. You can go back for free as many times as it takes to find out the gender.
Speaking of gender...we have a problem.
"Roy" is a GIRL!
(I will decline to show the ultrasound picture that establishes that).
And Roy-a, Royamina, Royderella, and all other attempts to feminize Roy just don't have the same ring to them.
For now, we've settled on Mary Hannah--a family name, and I think a good name for a Christmas baby too. And little Mary feels even more real to us, even though Isaac is panicking. "Do you think she'll want to wear sparkly shoes?" And, "I don't know how to raise a daughter!" And, "What if she turns out too girly?"
As if I could raise a girly daughter even if I wanted to.
Don't worry, he already loves her. We both do.