I rushed over to the hospital from work, and met the missus in the parking garage. She parked next to me and I asked her if she really had to go to the bathroom. Being a terrific detective and keen observer of all things human, I completely missed the fact that she didn't need to drink a gallon of water for this ultrasound. Smooth, Wyatt.
Unfortunately for me, I had to tinkle like Smarty Jones. As of yesterday, I officially went back on Weight Watchers, and have been drinking water - and the occasional Turkey Hill diet iced tea - on a constant basis. So, while she checked in, I checked in to the local Motel #1. Heh. When I returned, we took a seat in the waiting room, and *gasp* waited. And waited. And waited. Soon, our 2:15 appointment turned into our 4:00 appointment, and Wyatt was not a cheery guy.
Finally, the ultrasound tech took us into the examination room. Then abruptly left us there for another 15 minutes. In between cracks about the Ultrasound Gel ("Where do you get a tub of gel that size?") and loving reassurances ("If you want a girl, expect a boy. That way, you won't be disappointed.") we passed the time rather quickly. When the tech arrived, we were ready to rumble.
The gel smeared on the missus' belly, it was obviously show time. The tech took pictures of almost every part of our child and at every angle. While the wife smiled politely and said "Uh-huh" when the tech said "That's a leg" - As if we wouldn't know a leg when we saw it! - we were waiting to hear what we were going to welcome into the world. The tech asked if we wanted to know the sex, and we said in unison, "Yes."
The tech nodded, and continued to take snapshots for the next ten minutes. She was frakkin' with us.
As she moved the camera around, she said, "You're baby's camera shy. he doesn't want to open his legs." My first thought was, "Good! If it's a girl, at least I know I don't have a Paris Hilton on my hands!" After a few moves, the baby turned into the camera. We held our breaths for the next sentence. This child will either be our third boy or our first girl . . .
The tech looked at the missus and said, "Do you have room for a third?"
IT'S ANOTHER BOY, BABY! WHOO HOO! ANOTHER MAN TO RULE THE ROOST!
Okay, I didn't exactly yell that. To be honest, the wife and I just smiled at each other, but not only out of happiness. We shared the "I told you so" smile that we knew we were going to see. I joked a lot about it, but the simple fact is that I cannot give the wife a girl. For a split second we were a little disappointed - a girl would have been great - but that feeling was fleeting. The bottom line is that we have a healthy baby boy there, and all of the measurements and tests prove that. And I'll take healthy over gender any day.
So, here's an updated picture of Earp son #3. We're happy. Kyle and Erik are happy. Everyone wins.
Now if only we could think of a name for this one . . .
The baby, lying on his back, with his face on the left.
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