We had an awesome last hurrah, baby-free, vacation last week. We spent the first three days visiting our dear friends Jenny and Brian in LA who were, by the way, the best hosts EVER. They drove us around the insanity that is LA, acted as our own personal tour guides, housed us for free in their cool-guy apartment (which had four pools, an on-site restaurant, and was a quarter mile from the beach) and they even forced us to sleep in their bed while they slept on the floor (which I would have fought tooth and nail against except that I'm really fat and pregnant and they so would have won that battle). Then we drove up the Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco and spent two days exploring the sights (Fisherman's Warf, Union Square, the Golden Gate Bridge and, of course, the Full House house). I think we would have been super bummed to come home from our awesome vacation if the next day hadn't been THE day. That's right. Thursday.
Ah, Thursday. Ultrasound Day! Or, as my cousin wished me via text, "Happy Finding Out the Sex of Your Baby Day!" It's also, "Let's Make Sure Your Baby Has All the Vital Organs It Needs to Survive Day," but that's a mouthful. The sonogram tech poked around my belly and identified the heart (four chambers, good), the upper lip (no cleft lip, good), the abdomen (all the right parts there, good), and the other organs which all looked, well good. All of this is according to the tech and, to be honest, to me it all looked pretty much like a fuzzy blur with some vague resemblances to humanish characteristics, so I'm gonna take her word for it.
Then, she asked us if we'd like to know the sex of the baby. To which we said, "Sure ya-betcha." So she poked around a little more before saying..."You have a baby girl!" And I cried. And then I felt a twinge of guilt for being more excited about the fact that she's a girl than the fact that she has all the right organs. I'm a novice, okay? I'll get better, I promise.
The thing is, somehow the "realness" of this whole baby-growing thing became more intense. We no longer had an "it" in my belly, we had a "she." We have a daughter. My parents will have a granddaughter. My sister will have a niece. Isn't that CRAZY?!
So there you go, folks. I know you've been waiting with bated breath, checking our blog every 3 minutes (Paige), and just clamoring to know that the wiggly little being in my belly is, in fact, a sweet little girl. Crazy, no?