Discovering Baby Reynolds

After a bowl of cereal, half a cup of tea and half a bottle of water my itsy bitsy bladder was ready for the ultrasound. Problem being that it was only 7:15am, a half hour before our scheduled 7:45 apt. But what’s a half hour right? Let me tell you.... in the pregnant world, 30 minutes equals like 20 hours of NOT peeing. SUCK! AND to boot, baby Reynolds thought it would be super funny to kick mommy right in the bladder THE WHOLE TIME! Bad baby. Now, I’ve never been kicked in the junk before, OBVI - I’m a girl. But, I imagine the terrible feeling I got in my throat after boy baby kicked me right in the bladder was kinda like that. 

Lesson Learned - Baby Reynolds DOES NOT like to feel constricted by pants or enlarged bladder.  So, like any accommodating parent would do... I peed a little to give this angry little baby some room. Kicking stops. Parental success #1. 

Finally at 8:10!!!! We are called for our apt. Man alive I have to pee! Lady takes one look at my bladder and she’s all like “hunny, way too full, go pee some out”. Ya, thanks. 

(Now, someone please tell me why the heck they make people drink 4 glasses of water only to make them pee it out before the ultrasound?!?! Don’t they know its pure torture to do this to a pregnant woman? I swear they do this for kicks. Anyway, next time I get preggers I’m refusing to drink water for these appointments.) I go pee excited because I’ll get to find out what my baby is any minute. I’m not even remotely annoyed. 

I come back and tell the tech that we are hoping to find out the sex. She says great, and proceeds to check EVERYTHING else before showing us the fun bits! I’m like “come on lady, lets get on with it!” When she finally does get to that part, baby isn’t cooperating. She says to us “I’m pretty sure its a boy”. I’m pretty sure its a boy?!?! Umm, I didn't come her for guesses. I take matters into my own hands and start talking to the baby with my supernatural mom powers (aka - in my head). “Now listen here little one... you just kicked me in the pee bag... the least you can do is show me what you’ve got down there.”  Aaaand voila, the money shot. Right there between two little legs are boy bits and.... wait for it.... A HAND! Bad baby! Its as though, in a mocking sense, he decided he would “present” it to me. “Here you go mom, happy now?! I’m a boy....good luck getting me out of here”. We all laugh, thinking this is funny...but I don’t really think its that funny. Chris tries to assure me that this is “normal” boy behaviour. Not for our boy its not. He will not do that. Chris will start teaching him some proper etiquette the second he pops out. 

Now shortly after this moment I realize that I know absolutely nothing about raising a boy. I grew up solely with girls. So aside from the fact that I’ve never raised anything, my skills are even more limited. I’m trying to decide if this is a blessing (because essentially this leaves much of the raising to Chris) or if its a curse, and I’m in for a 25 year learning curve. Also, I hate learning curves. I am hoping for the blessing, but I’m counting on the curse. Thus is my life.