beans n franks! franks n beans!

The day that you find out you are pregnant, all your ideas about how it is going to be instantly change. And if they don't then you are a bigger control freak than I am and YOU NEED TO LET IT GO. Trust someone who knows, because she had to learn it the hard way. Letting go is the only way, lest you have a heart attack and your head explodes before the second trimester. Because those little buggers have a way of throwing you a curve ball when you least expect it and from what I hear, it just never ends. Like most women, I had the fairytale fantasy of what the moment would be like when I found out when I was pregnant and told Chris, and we would both cry and then sit and talk for hours about how great this kid would be and what great parents we would be and make plans for where he would go to college and who he would marry, etc, etc. Instead, it was 5:00 in the morning, and we were both too shocked and freaked out to even talk about it for almost half a day. Even then, it took a couple of weeks before we were both really convinced it was true and could let ourselves be honestly happy about something that we both wanted so badly and had actually planned for, it was just that the reality was so...real and...fast and.... real.

I also thought that every sonogram would leave me in a puddle of happy tears and it would be like a Lifetime Movie where I would feel every kick from the beginning and sit and talk to my belly for hours, but alas, no. The ultrasounds freak me out more that anything because I can see him kicking me with all his might on the screen, and moving around and flailing his arms, yet I still feel nothing. Most of my ultrasounds have just been dominated by relief that the heart is still beating and he's looking healthy, but no real tears.
Until today.
We had the anatomy ultrasound, where they measure the head, arms and legs, check out the heart, and if the little bugger cooperates, the gender. I was shocked when the tech asked us if we wanted to know the gender, and Chris waffled a little bit and then after she asked the third time, Chris finally said, "OK, tell me what you see."

And she said, "See that leg, and that other leg? and see that thing in between? That can only mean one thing."

And I finally cried. He finally IS something.
A boy.
Our boy.
Our son.
Welcome.