But I'm so proud. We went to the clinic again on Monday for our monthly check, and it turns out I've put on 1.6 kilos and about 6 more centimeters in diameter. The baby has almost doubled in length, and has a big ol' healthy cranium.
The doctor remembered to weigh me and take my blood pressure this time, but I still think he's not very good at taking stills from the ultrasound monitor. There were several opportunities to capture hands with fingers extended, waving, long legs kicking out... but no. Here's the peanut looking rather like a teddy bear giving you the evil eye:
And if you can guess what this is, you win $100:
I'll give you a hint: it's a boy!
It looks like static to me, but we figure the doc knows what he's looking for. Or, as my sister-in-law put it, "it could be a sneaky lil' Miss..."
J and I had decided pretty early on that we wanted to find out the sex if we could, and I was grateful that we were both on the same page about it. Some folks are adamant about not finding out. I'm too curious, and terrible with secrets.
The funny thing is, now that we know, it feels like the flood-gates have opened up and a river of Culture is rushing toward us. I don't regret finding out, but it's strange to think that this baby has gone from just Baby, to Boy -- to a whole slew of assumptions about gender and biology. I admit I was kind of hoping for a girl, but mainly because I assumed they are "easier," not as rowdy or raucous or violent as boys. And they have cuter clothes. I feel shallow for confessing this; I should be beyond this kind of social conditioning. But I figure it's better to lay bare my expectations and misguided pre-conceptions than to let them fester and corrupt the kid later in life, which he would rebel against by becoming a Televangelist or an Investment Banker.
It's also interesting to me to watch how life brews from a tiny point of vast possibility -- "God is punctiform," says Annie Dillard -- and then it gradually acquires a body, a sex, a gender, a name; its identity hewn by these parameters. Of course, this is inevitable, we are all marked by culture.
Watching the baby move around was mezmerizing: he waved his fingers! How marvelous, how utterly human. And I instinctively waved back to him.
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2 comments:
i often wish i was a baby girl, because their clothes are so much cuter than boys'... and my current wardrobe.
((waving back, too))
yep, that's our baby boy! I love reading your blog. Keep writing and sketching and loving it all!
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