Baby. Healthy. Modest.
Ah, yes. The results of the level II ultrasound. Sorry, the Pat drama was distracting. Dear darling Clyde came over and got him out yesterday. I don't know where Ep found her partner, but he is a gem. And he was willing to work for Smarties (the Canadian M&M kind) and Seymour's hand-me-down first generation Treo.
Ultrasound. Try as they might (and they tried jiggling the baby quite a few times, to my great surprise), they could not get our modest little thirdling to uncross his or her legs. The only thing they would commit to is that they couldn't find a penis, but that doesn't mean it wasn't tucked down safely out of view.
The baby seems mightily healthy. The technicians and doctor spent a good 30 minutes ultrasounding, and didn't see anything off. I know this because they said they would tell me if there were any anomalies. I'm assuming they're litigation-savvy enough not to lie to patients.
Iz was fascinated by the baby's face, mouth, hands, feet, skull, ribs, spine, beating heart, etc. She said, "Is the baby head down yet?" and the technician assured her it was. No breech birth for me, whew! Another big whew: the placenta is nice and posterior, instead of previa (covering the cervix) like it was initially.
Because I will be 35 for all of 6 weeks by the baby's due date, they asked me if I wanted to see a genetic counselor. I declined. They kind of shit I'm worried about wouldn't show up, anyhow.
As for boyness and girlness, the rest of you will find out when I do.