Boy or Girl?
Son or Daughter?
Blue or Pink?
Basketball or Ballet?
XY or XX?
Your guess is as good as mine. Kevin and I headed to our doctor's appointment this morning, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, hoping to learn the fate of our family. Were we going to have a son or a daughter? Finally, the moment had arrived. Until we were greeted with concerned nurses and questions regarding our 20-week ultrasound.
Why hadn't we scheduled it?
Had anyone talked to us about it?
Did we want to find out the gender?
I'm sure we looked just as confused as they did. This was our 20-week ultrasound. Hello! I'm here with a ready-to-burst bladder at 1-day shy of 20 weeks. How could you not read that in my chart? After what seemed like for-ev-er waiting, we learned that the receptionist had never put us on the schedule for our ultrasound. Instead, we were there for a repeat of our 16-week appointment. Yep, it was pretty much pointless. After lots of waiting around, talking with multiple nurses/receptionists, the typical pee-in-a-cup, blood pressure (great), weight (same), listening to the baby's heartbeat (strong and fast) and chatting with our doctor, we were on our way...
No ultrasound today.
We were bummed.
I actually cried.
Granted, I made it into the hallway outside the women's clinic to let the tears fall, but fall they did. Accompanied by some "this isn't fair" and "are you kidding me!?!" comments that I'd rather not relive.
The silver lining? We got to reschedule our appointment for tomorrow (Wednesday) at 8.30am. Lord knows if they would have asked me to wait another whole week, I would have raged. Like my mom said "don't mess with a hormonal pregnant woman that's got to pee!"
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