IT'S (will be) A GIRL

I'll post more soon. My brain isn't working after Babies R' Us.

--A day passes--

Wow, I really needed that time. My brain was so foggy that I actually felt like a newborn myself, overwhelmed by my surroundings and seeing things for the first time. It made me very tired, and I wanted a boob of my own. But now I am refreshed and can put sentences together enough to announce that some time in mid to late February, we will have a wee daughter. It's official and confirmed. So all of those people with their theories like...

If your stomach is pointy it's a boy
Your nose will get flat if it's a girl
More heartburn means a hairy baby

...can silence themselves now. Katrina made a cake with vanilla frosting the night before and wrote on it "boy or girl?" I think baking was the only way to work through her excitement and impatience for the next day. After we found out, we took the cake downstairs to her co-workers and circled GIRL with a cake pen in pseudo-ceremonial/gameshow fashion. Naturally, all men fantasize about having a son but in reality this works out very well. If we didn't have a girl this time, I have a feeling that Katrina would want to try again sooner rather than later. I say confirmed because we went in for this final Anatomy Review sonogram session and got a really good angle on the baby that left nothing for assumption. Yep, there it is, no doubt. The sono tech even pointed to the evidence with her mouse arrow. Yes, okay I see it! We brought a videotape this time as well so we got to record some movement. The doctor was preoccupied with trying to get the hands measured, which you can't do unless the baby spreads her fingers out. This took a while. They measured basically everything from ventricles to upper lip to femurs. And everything was perfect. But I think we were too dazed about knowing it was a girl to notice. Katrina smiled so big you could see her molars and bottom gums. She kept repeating excitedly, "It's a girl, it's a girl!" I wasn't expecting this, but they turned on the 3D imaging so we could get a better picture of the little miss. It was, well, interesting. The technology isn't really there yet. The 3D ultrasound picked up on her skull more than her face so she looked like the Crypt Keeper. It didn't help that she was hiding under the placenta so the ultrasound had a hard time picking up her face. But, I'm willing to wait for that. We did however get to see her rub her eye and play with her nose in 3D. This is a very active child. She was rolling around and moving a lot. Perhaps it was the quart of orange juice Katrina drank beforehand so the baby wouldn't be sleeping for the sonogram.

Then we went to Babies r Us and good God that was exhausting. We spent 3 hours going through that place, zapping things with the laser gun. Yes, I got to hold it. Katrina mentioned how it was more tiring than the wedding registry. I said, "Well yes. When you choose plates you don't have to think about if they will kill your child." Strollers, bathtubs, breastpumps, bottles, carseats, portable playpens (pack n' play), glider chairs, diaper bags, changing tables, cribs, bouncy seats, baby carriers, high chairs, and a bevy of Pooh & Tigger related items. We weren't allowed to register for clothes because the shower is in January and we have to wait. So everything you zap you have to think, Is this safe? Because apparently, a lot of this stuff isn't made for baby's safety as much as Mommy's convenience. I mean, a Cappacino maker on a stroller is a bit much. Hot steam hurts! By the end of it, I wasn't even thinking "do we need this?" My head was so blurry, Katrina would walk up and put a bar code in my face and I'd just limply hold up the gun and zap it. I wouldn't even ask what it was. We got home and we were completely drained. I went to the bathroom and found the lightswitch on the first try. Ah, it's home now, I thought.

Monday, We'll Know

On Monday at 3:30pm, we will know what the sex is. So keep an eye out for updates that night for the answer. Katrina wants to make a bee line to the Babies r Us to register for stuff. That will most likely be one of several places. Personally, I'd rather do the whole thing online. But I do like the laser gun registry device, if they have them. I wonder if registry gun lasers are bad for the baby? Well, even if they're not, I'll use that excuse so I can play with it more. Mine! I'll already be setting examples of maturity.

Katrina is still getting used to her new girth. She has smacked her stomach with the car door a couple of times. Not too hard, but she's going to need longer arms. She still continually pokes herself, trying to feel baby parts. One time she had me poke a spot that she swore was an arm. It felt like it could've been an arm, but I wasn't convinced. Felt more like a part of her stomach muscle wall. "Stop poking yourself so much," I'd say, "the baby's going to come out with dents!" She's also moving a lot more slowly and gets winded easier. When we walk around our neighborhood I tell her to dictate the pace. Until now she'd gotten used to my long strides.

We've been pointed to an article that says we'll need to acclimate our cat to baby stuff slowly. Since cats get skiddish when you move a table, What are you doing to my space?, this seemed like a rational approach to bringing in a new family member. Especially one that doesn't really act as we do. We're supposed to start wiping our hands with baby wipes, putting diapers on the ground for her to investigate, and pooping and screaming in her face. Well, maybe not that last one. The cat is still getting used to the new apartment. For that matter so are we. Maybe once we get all this baby stuff loaded into our place, it'll feel more like a home. I still slap the wall for several seconds in the dark before I enter a room. "It's not home until you can find the light switches." - Ethan's Law

No Short Bus

Okay, I'll be the first to admit the title is crude. But it's official. We got the results of the integrated tests and the baby was negative for Downs and mental retardation. Yes, I know you don't have to be retarded to ride the short bus. But let's hope there won't be a reason. There was also another test where they measure Katrina's cervix to make sure it's not stretching. It causes early labor. The alternative is, no joke, a stapler. That too, was a positive test. So for now we're chipping away at these prenatal worries and cruising into the bliss of the 2nd Trimester. The best Mester of all.

Katrina is finally eating a little more because her nausea is all but gone. The only problem now is that her stomach is starting to get squished by her other organs so usually after half her plate is half empty, she's all full. Then she gets hungry about an hour or so later. This must be what it's like for stomach staple people. I think this is also why the father is known to gain weight along with his pregnant wife. He's eating what she doesn't finish!

Meanwhile, she's desperately trying to get me to feel the baby move or kick. I still can't feel anything. She stands at the ready for the slightest movement and then yells "the baby's kickin'" and puts my hand on her stomach. Although last night I think the onions she had were giving her gas because she put my hand on her liver. "Honey, I don't think the baby is up this high," I said. Or maybe the baby's kick sent her organs flying into a domino effect that ended with her liver. But soon I will feel it, perhaps see it. In my nearly 30 years of existence I have yet to feel a pregnant woman's belly when a baby was kicking. Like Maraschino Cherries, I got to the point where I realized I had yet to experience it and thought, why start now? When I got to my 20s, I decided that I would rather wait to feel my own child kicking. I figured it would be a nice way to usher in fatherhood and have this first contact be a completely foreign sensation. But I'm sticking to my guns with those fake cherries. All bloody chemicals anyway.

Boy or Girl?

Katrina went in for some tests on Friday and while the doctor was doing his sono-izing to measure some of her bits and pieces. Then he asked Katrina if she wanted to know the sex of the baby. It was right there on the screen, but the doctor's head was blocking it. Katrina threw up her hand to her eyes and said, "You know already? No! No, not yet I want to wait until Ethan is here." Soooo, the information is available. Now all we have to do is ask for it. We'll definitely know at the end of the month when we do the anatomy review. They'll be using a much more sophisticated ultrasound appliance. I'm picturing something from Wonka's laboratory but I'm sure there's less steam and whistling. Not only will the pictures be of better quality but we'll have the option of bringing in a videotape too. Katrina says she'll drink lots of orange juice on the day so the baby will be running laps between her ascending and descending colon (which is working more normally these days thankfully).

She has been telling me that the baby gets very active on sonograms. I'm just hoping it's not like that cartoon frog that sings Hello my baby, hello my honey only when that guy is watching. Once we know the sex, then comes the fun yet arduous task of the baby registry. Color schemes, furniture, developmental mobiles that play Mozart. Our large living room looks like a roller rink because of it's size and lack of furniture. But soon there'll be large plastic things that roll, jingle, squeak, and tell me what the cow goes.

Daddy's First Office

Okay, it's official. I have a normal job again. And I got an office. Well, not because I'm important or by any means high up. But more because the confidentiality of the documents I guard. This will surely come in handy when Katrina goes on her hospital sponsored unpaid maternity leave. Thanks Long Island Jewish Medical Center! You complete me.

But yes, a job. Brilliant! But any mistakes I make will be most obvious. You see, one of the many duties in my charge is the company payroll. HA! So let's hope I don't accidentally wire someone's 401K to Borneo or something.

The doctor says that the "flutter of life" Katrina is feeling is probably gas. I'm forced to not agree with her medical opinion. You try telling a smiling Katrina that the kick she just felt was a fart, and not her unborn baby.

We're finding out the sex of the baby sometime this month. Most likely towards the end. There'll be more pictures of baby parts for your enjoyment. Until then, I have to figure out how to do this job. The previous occupant left no instructions. This should be interesting.

Magic German Dwarves

I think I've realized how we were so lucky in getting pregnant on the first try. When we were on our way back from our honeymoon, on a layover in Chicago, we were going through some of the photos that we'd already had developed from our Alaska trip. Katrina then went to get a Starbucks fix, back when she could, and I noticed that the 4 foot woman sitting across from us with her feet dangling was none other than Dr. Ruth Westheimer. When Katrina came back with her Grande Mocha, the gateway coffee, I said "don't look now, but the country's most preeminent sex doctor is sitting across from us." So we gave her one of our honeymoon photos to sign. She said, "Ah, I knew you vas honeymoonahs," signing the photo of us kissing on top of Mt. Whistler, "Dat's a goot kiss." I thought it was good omen to get a marriage send off from Dr. Ruth. Turns out it was.

By the way, I think Daddy got a job today. Nothing has been signed yet but I'm told by the recruiter that they made me an offer. It almost doesn't seem real, so I'm waiting until I've been there a month before I accept that I have a normal job again.

We said goodbye to our rooftop deck in Brooklyn the other night, with the panoramic views of Manhattan. It felt like we were saying goodbye to a lot more though. Youth? Decadence? Spoiling ourselves? Katrina was sad, but I gave her a kiss and said, "Come on honey, let's go start a family."