A matched set

We got our big ultrasound today, the one where they measure all the baby parts and check the heart and weight and fluids and tell you what flavor fetus you have in there, if you want to know.

Which we did.

So they told us.

OK, OK … it’s a girl! She was squirming around so much in there I was afraid they wouldn’t be able to see the requisite parts, but they checked and double checked and triple checked, and sure enough: female parts. Mr. Squab will officially have a harem come March. She has all her parts, and we got the results of my quad screen (one of the tests for chromosomal abnormalities) and they were “just great” according to the perinatologist – she said my results were better than a 25-year-old’s, which just proves that I’m really, really immature young at heart. The kid weighs about 12 oz., which is right on track for this stage of pregnancy, and relieves my fears that my recent belly popping was an indicator of diabetes-related hugeness. It’s not; it’s just a second pregnancy. So all is well, at least on the inside of my uterus. Which is a good thing, because if this baby is going to put me through this level of discomfort, the least she can do is be healthy.

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