The 20-week ultrasound

I have been so lazy about posting! Those of you who read my other blog know this is not unusual behavior. I have so many notes about different topics so it’s not for lack of material. It’s just procrastination. But I do have some good excuses for not posting lately (in addition to the usual procrastination and laziness)–it’s been a busy time for us. We signed a purchase agreement for a new home so we’ve been busy with everything that goes with that, not to mention we are STILL dealing with Progressive over the whole stolen car fiasco. More on both these topics in another post. Let’s move on to the fun stuff–the 20-week ultrasound!

We were pretty excited about the “big” ultrasound. In fact, I was in a pretty big hurry to get to the doctor’s office so on the way to the appointment, I was doing something I don’t usually do–I was speeding! And guess what? After not receiving a ticket in probably ten years or so, I got pulled over and cited. The sheriff deputy gets a Prick of the Year Award for giving a ticket to a pregnant lady on the same street as her doctor’s office when she was on her way to her appointment. I apologized profusely, told him I really had to pee and explained I wouldn’t ordinarily speed. He instead focused on the fact I did not have proof of insurance, whereupon I explained my car had been stolen and I hadn’t gotten my new insurance card and that is why I was driving a rental. He cut me a break on that but gave me a ticket for speeding (41 in a 30–I’m such a menace to society!). Anyway, I arrived at the appointment very upset and told David this would never have happened if I hadn’t been fat and gross and pregnant. Nonpregnant Emily wouldn’t have gotten a ticket. She was adorable, charming and sometimes wore makeup. And had a bladder of steel. David was the perfect consoling husband, although he was surprised because he’s never even seen me drive 5 mph over the speed limit. So he put out that emotional PL fire and we went back to check out Baby Castille on the big screen.

The ultrasound room isn’t bad. I like that it’s dark, of course. It was warm this time and we all know how well that sort of thing goes over with me. I immediately asked that the air be turned on. I didn’t really know what to expect because my first ultrasound was a vaginal ultrasound that was fairly quick. This ultrasound was just like in the movies, where they put all the goop on your belly and go to town. What they don’t show in the movies is that it takes approximately 500 years. It’s sort of uncomfortable because you have to lie on your back the whole time. Also, Baby Castille was VERY active, making it even more difficult for the technician to get a good view of everything, so that prolonged the process as well. At some points, I kind of felt nauseated and nervous, mostly because it sort of hit me that if anything major was wrong with the baby, I would find out then. Plus, the technician would get really quiet sometimes and I wanted to be like, “Speak, bitch!” because I just assumed that she was seeing a tail or something crazy.

But Baby Castille was looking good. We saw fingers, face, organs, etc. We had to look away for a while when she tried to see the baby’s bottom half since we don’t want to know the sex. I assume all was well concerning the baby’s privates. Ever since I saw some documentary on hermaphrodites on MSNBC, I have been very concerned about having one and then having to make the call about whether to raise it as a boy or a girl. I am terribly indecisive and that’s a pretty big decision. So, whew–what a load off my mind!

When it was all over, David and I walked to the elevator and he, grinning from ear to ear, asked me what I thought. I had only two things to say: “The baby looks sort of creepy, like an alien” and “I still can’t believe I got a fucking ticket.”


November 8, 2010. Uncategorized.

One Comment

  1. Rene Palmer replied:

    When Samantha was born, Nick was in Biloxi. He got special permission from the State Fire Marshal to go as fast as he needed to go to get to Shreveport. He drove 95 from the LA state line to Shreveport and didn’t see a single cop! You get caught by the one cop in BR who gives a shit about speeding! I lived there for 55 years and never saw a single cop doing radar on the interstate!

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