The baby, per the ultrasound this morning, is measuring at just about 25w3d on all important measurements so things are, in the words of Mr. MC, “perfect.” I am 25w today, so things are even a little ahead of schedule. I am so relieved that everytime I think about it, I start to cry. I am now just going to make sure I get a lot of lean protein in my diet, and then not worry about my lack of weight gain. The baby is fine. The baby is good. The baby is “perfect.”
Oh, and we now know: wee-beastie is a HE-beastie!!
Mr. MC and I were so sure it was a girl, we are both still in shock. A boy! A HE-BEASTIE!!
The only one who knew, apparently, was my four-year old friend Maya.
Our conversation on Easter:
MC: “Hey Maya, do you think the baby in my tummy is a girl or a boy?”
Maya: “It’s a boy.”
MC: “Really? A boy? Are you sure it is not a girl?”
Maya: “It’s a boy” (slightly annoyed at having to repeat her very obvious statement of fact).
MC: “Wouldn’t it be fun to have a girl, though? You could show her all the cool things about being a girl!!”
Maya: “Yeah, that would be fun. . . .” (pause) . . . but it’s a boy.”
Behold the intuitive power of four-year olds.