So yesterday was our big, huge two-hour ultrasound. And when they'd said it would take two hours, they were not lying. It took every bit of that two hours. The woman measured everything. Or tried to. She didn't get a good enough look at "Baby A's" brain and a few other things because of how he was lying in there.
Oh, don't worry, it was there. It's just that she couldn't get enough of a good look to measure something how she'd wanted.
So we finally know what we're having. Is the suspense killing you? Well if you were paying attention to pronouns you already know at least one was a boy. That guy may have not given us a perfect view of his gray matter but he showed off his stuff proudly. The other one, "Baby B," was shy with the umbilical cord between its legs. They let my wife go take a leak and when she came back they'd moved.
Well I was a little disappointed, but it turns out both are boys. I in the not-so-distant-future will be the proud papa of three boys. Holy shit how am I going to handle three boys, two of them twins? I'd wanted at least one girl. I had wanted a Daddy's little girl to dote on. Now it looks as if I may never get that. Are we just one of those couples that no matter how many times you try you always get the same sex? Like those families with four or five girls? Or boys? But at any rate, I'm gonna love 'em to death, just like my son now. :)
They're almost certain the twins are not identical. There's still some doubt. But even if they're not identical, they sure did look alike, as far as their features on the ultrasound.
The names we have picked out are Evan and Tristan - the name we'd almost named my now 3-year-old son. It's bringing back the old argument with most of our uncultured relatives, that Tristan isn't a boy's name. It doesn't matter how many times you tell them it IS a boy's name they won't listen. Well this time we're not changing it and I'm tired of taking crap for it. I do not think the name Tristan will get him made fun of. There are far worse things to worry about being made fun of for. Trust me, I know. And I've known several boy Tristans, never one girl Tristan. I'm gonna tell them, the day they're born, if they give us any crap... AT ALL... about that name they will be asked to leave the hospital. Nothing will taint that wonderful day.
Anyway, it's been an interesting few months in my life, of that you can be sure, between getting pregnant and flying down to Phoenix -- and I have to fly down there again Friday, by the way, and drive all the way back up to St. Louis Saturday and Sunday with my sister, grandmother, and a dog.
Ever taken a road trip with a dog? I haven't.
That will probably be the last time I go to Phoenix. That place... it's just too hot and brown for my tastes. I don't know what my sister ever saw in it. I'm glad she's coming home, though... this time for good. Goodbye, Arizona!