He said, in true parental fashion, that it didn't matter just as long as he/she was healthy. Prior to Tintin's birth, I wanted a baby brother.
I wanted someone with whom I could play. I wanted a brother so we could roughhouse, someone to strong arm, a confidant, a friend.
It turned out I got all of that, she just happened to be a girl.
As I sat in the waiting room of the OB/Gyn today, waiting for our 20 week scan and reflecting upon my father's answer – which is the same answer I have given a dozens times when people ask me if I wanted a boy or a girl – I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity*.
The self-examination of whether or not I really wanted to know lead me to the knowledge that I really did want to know. I mean really, really wanted to know. So why have I been so reticent?
Why the fight?
Two things occurred to me – 1). Finding out the sex of the babies in advance means they can find out problems in advance. I don't want problems, so I bury my head in the sand and hope that it goes away. 2). On some subconscious level, I think I really want a boy.
There's nothing I can do about the first one, other than accept that forewarned is forearmed. I've read stories of in-utero surgeries. They can fix a myriad of problems. I know that.
After I thought about the second one, and once the megasound tech told us, I realized I was being an idiot and the only thing I really wanted was healthy twins.
I should take a moment here to say to the twins, should they read this later on, at this moment, right now as I write this, I love you both so much it hurts. I could literally burst with love. I want you both to hurry up and get here so I can fawn over you and show you off and take you places and teach you things.
But that love isn't even close to the love I feel for now, as you read this. The love is greater because I know you. Your genes are my genes. I know your likes and dislikes. I changed your diapers (I did, go ask your mother for pictures). I helped to raise you and make you the person you are.
And the real true is, I don't care what sex you are.
(I bet you thought I was gonna tell you about the twins' sex in that last paragraph, huh? Not quite yet, but read on.)
The megasound did take a long time; it lasted the better part of an hour. I know, I know, you all said it would. I just figured, well, I'm a pretty quick test taker, so…
The picture at the start of the blog is from our 20 week scan. It is so funny, I'm thinking of using it as our
Christmas holiday card.
The tech was a nice woman, pointing out the things that she saw and really 'holding our hand' as she walked us through it. Unfortunately, she did not have much of a sense of humor. I was cracking jokes that P.Pie and I were howling about, but she was all business.
Doc Tres, on the other hand, has a rather warped sense of humor. I like her a lot.
We were concerned that P.Pie wasn't gaining enough weight, so we asked Doc Tres about it. She said, (and I quote), "Basically you have a pair of parasites living in your body and they will tell your body when they need more. I think you're doing fine."
I chuckled to myself at the parasite comment.
A short time later, she went on to talk about changes that were going on in P.Pie's body and said, "…so now you've got these tumors resting on your pelvis…"
I laughed out loud this time and said, "Uhm, Doc, you've called my children parasites and tumors. Perhaps you’re a little burned out; maybe you should think of a new career."
We all laughed at that. [ed. note – Doc Tres is a fantastic doctor and the quotes are a little out of context. She was not in anyway bitter, angry, or resentful. On the contrary, she is a really great doctor and person. I would have no problem recommending her to anyone.]
Anyway, while we are waiting on the P.Pie's glucose results to come back, everything else about the twins and P.Pie was thumbs up.
Alright, alright all ready. I know you are all dying. What are the sexes of the twins?!? P.Pie and I have all received calls from friends and relatives wanting to know the sexes, but we wouldn't tell.
This is the only place you can find out the sex of our children (don't you feel special?).
Twin A has taken up residence on the lower left hand side of P.Pie with the head facing down (Twin A is the one with the butt to B's head). This is first one they scanned because of the ease of access. The tech was able to see a good deal of Twin A during the cervix exam – head, shoulders, and a hand (five fingers! Yea!).
But it wasn't until she did the belly megasound that we could the sex. And it took a bit of looking; first we saw kidneys, then the abdomen, and on to the heart. At the heart, the tech let us listen to it – thumpathumpathumpathumpa! – as she took a reading of the BPM (158!). Such a quick heart beat. Perhaps she will be a runner. (Did you catch that?)
Twin B wasn't so easy. B is half covered up by its sister and laying across (transverse) the womb. Then B's umbilical cord goes between its legs. Not in a bad way; at first glance, everything appear to be okay. Heart (148 BPM!), kidneys, arms, legs, fingers, toes – they all seem to be in place and functioning well. But the tech was unwilling to make a commitment on B's sex.
At one point the tech said, "Well I can't tell; that little bump may be a penis."
I retorted, "C'mon, you're going to give the kid a complex." (every guy reading this blog gets that.)
P.Pie and I laughed, the tech continued to scan.
B did do this funny thing; he/she was moving its head close to the scan and then away from the scan. It was sort of pushing your face against a window. Very funny.
So that's it. One girl and one player to be named later (hopefully at our next growth scan in 4 weeks).
Right now, right this second, we are calling the girl Jorja, but that might changed.
Stay tuned for more!
*My thanks and apologize to Tarantino for use of the quote