I learned something today.
I discovered that if there’s ever a good time to yank out one of your wife’s rogue subterranean hairs, right before she sees her unborn baby is it. She just can’t stay mad.
With the gel squirted over her belly like something from cheap German porn, the tech fired up the ultrasound.
Boom. There it was, kidlet in full high definition with a heartbeat in stereo. It was big sized, baby shaped, and swinging its arms akin to an overweight drunken uncle fighting with the best man at a wedding.
It was stunning to see a real big baby in there, not just a shape.
The tech went about her business, zooming in on the brain, heart & other organs, legs and spine. It took two sessions for her to see all she wanted to check, with everything looking and measuring just perfectly.
There was one single negative point in the whole thing though, it appears that we, two shortarses, are having a shortarse baby.
Screw you Darwin.
It’s not easy to see what the ultrasounds show when zoomed in, we spent 2 minutes cooing at our baby’s cute face which we thought was staring right at the screen only to be told we were actually ‘ooohing’ and ‘aaahing’ over its kidneys.
Bloody cute kidneys though.
Then came the money shot, the declaration of pink or blue, the choosing of a flavour, boy or girl.
The tech peered between the baby’s legs long enough to make Gary Glitter uncomfortable before passing on the good news.
After years of people knowing far too much about this wee thing even before it existed, it can stay as secret good news, for now at least.