Sooo...been awhile. Been on vacation. But here are updates! The great news is, EVERYTHING IS FINE!! After my last ultrasound about a month ago, i was officially released from bed rest, or restrictions of any kind!! Super wonderful. However, they told me there was "no way" to tell the gender conclusively at that point. Which was fine with me, as Dave and i were thinking maybe a surprise was in order....
But wait! "What the hell is THAT, then?" i asked, as my little happy fetus spread his legs wide apart in perfect (genetically predisposed) exhibitionist form (more on that later).
--"Oh..well....that loooks like," the sonographer ventured.
--"-a penis. That's a penis, " i interjected. "And testicles."
--"Mmmm, welllll...yes. That is a penis."
--"Ohhh. SHIT. (snrrrrf stifle sob SOB)"
--"Ummm, was this baby planned?"
--"OF COURSE NOT. Do you not see??? (pointing to spastic baby Kingston screaming and being held against his will by a nurse...i was alone here...) WHO WOULD PLAN THIS??"
--"Welll. you know...you DO have options. Have you considered adoption??
--"Have you considered adoption?"
--"(snif snif snarf snot) Ya. OK. i'm actually adopted, mkay? (cringe from sonographer who has realized she really botched this one) and i think its the most beautiful thing ever. But are you KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?? I do NOT have "options". This is baby number FOUR. Like, you don't just opt out because of of gender, dude. I'm just...completely shocked. I was SURE this was a girl."
--"OK....are you alright?"
--"i just (snerrrrrf ) wanted a girrrrllllll..."
And so on. I was a hot mess, to put it lightly. Plus, the evil Mormon nurse holding Kingston (b/c i had NO available babysitters at 9AM, and Dave was doing an installation in Park City) told me she "felt sorry for him, because there was no one to hold him." i was thinking, "I feel sorry for him too, because you are obviously a witch stirring a cauldron full of wishes for Joseph, you freak." I fucking love Salt Lake.
But then. Of course. It took me only 2, maaaaybeee 7 hours to count my blessings. And even in the throes of self pity ("...but boys all become MEN!") i was well aware that the baby that is supposed to come is the one that's coming. Plus, no one wants to compete w/ Georgia at such a close age range. That's just a recipe for disaster/eating disorders.
So, i guess we'll just have to have five....?