third time's a charm

What a colossal cliche', huh?  Well, in this case, it very much applies.

In late 2012, we found out we were pregnant.  It wasn't the best time for it.  In fact, the timing couldn't get much worse.  And for a number of highly personal reasons, we really didn't think it was remotely possible for me to be pregnant.  But after I managed to wipe out an entire super-sized jar of pickles (the kind that one usually finds in a store or food concession stand or something similar), it was becoming rather obvious that, despite our insistence that we were absolutely, unequivocally, without a doubt done having children, another was on its way.

Similar to my previous pregnancy, we didn't find out we were pregnant until I was almost half-way through the 9 months.  After a disastrous first appointment with a horrible doctor who, thankfully, had wonderful nurses who were most helpful in finding me another doctor and get my needed tests expedited, my husband and I headed to a private laboratory armed with an order for an ultrasound stamped "STAT".

We sat in the waiting room, anxious to get into the exam room and get that wand over my belly to make sure our baby was doing okay.  Naturally, that was our first priority.  But running a close second was finding out if our baby sported girl parts or boy parts.

If you don't already know, I had previously given birth to two boys from a man who already had a son.  Now you can see why we were very interested in baby's gender.

Finally, my name was called.  We met our tech who was a familiar stranger to me.  While we had never met before, his wife was one of my favorite customers at a bar I had worked at many years ago.  I let him know I knew his wife and congratulated him on the baby I knew they just had.  As we became acquainted and I climbed onto the table assuming the position, I told him immediately that we wanted to know the gender and explained why.

As the picture came on the screen, I saw a perfect little baby who was not like my other two babies before and I don't mean gender-wise.  When I had my ultrasound for my sons, neither was very shy.  As soon as the wand hit my belly, there it was.  My boys were spread-eagle, announcing to the world their gender.  Baby number three, however, was shy.

As the tech took us through the paces, showing us baby's heart and other organs, spine, head, limbs and a cute little face showing us tongue, I saw nothing of baby's private parts.  At one point our tech referred to baby as "she" though I didn't catch it.  I figured he was just mimicking us and our hopeful insistence that this baby was a girl.

That was the only mistake our tech made that day.  As the minutes dragged on, this tech knew exactly what he was doing, keeping us in suspense as long as possible.

And then he asked if we were ready.  I could have strangled him.

As he waved the wand over the part where he knew baby's little parts were (because he already knew where they were having seen them and quickly passing over them so that we couldn't, purposely keeping the gender a surprise for as long as possible) he asked, "What do you think?"

A huge smile erupted on my face as it was more than obvious.  "That's a girl," I said, moments before I turned away and cried profusely.

And it was.  Finally, we were having our girl.

(to be continued)