It's a . . .

Girl!!!!!!!!
Better still, a very active, very well-formed little baby. When she finally sat still, the ultrasound docs could see that, developmentally, she is right on track, and I couldn't be happier for that. The whole process is way more nerve-wracking than I envisioned. For example, you don't receive all the info at once because the docs need to change the views, take measurements, etc. It went something like this: "now we are measuring the head-to-rump. Photo/photo/photo/measure/measure/measure/place-measurements-against-the-norm. Perfect!
Now we are looking at the brain, specifically, the brain stem. We can check for water on the brain, and we can also look for Down's Syndrome again. Perfect.
Now we are looking at the heart (this took forever and had us on tenterhooks). Perfect.
Now we are looking at the kidneys (trust me). Perfect. Now we are . . . oh, would you like to know the sex . . . yes?"
But when the doc announced the gender, I shamefully admit I was disappointed, and now I am trying to hide this from the baby and a bunch of other people as well. It's not like I've cried about it or anything, and if we were in China, I wouldn't have her killed; it's just that I have been thinking of the boy-advantages way more than the girl-advantages, and I've pretty well convinced myself that the boy is the way to go. I feel badly for Mr. R - no legacy, and no Little R to follow in his footsteps. Mr. R is such a boy, and I wanted him to share his boy stuff and boy interests with our kid and please don't tell me that a girl can be a stand-in because there is just no way. She'll play his games, to a point, and then she'll be what she is: a girl. And the truth is, Mr. R will want it that way, and so will I. We both want to encourage the child to be her own person; we just think a boy would be easier. I mean, everything is more difficult with girls, and now we will be paying for college and a wedding, that is if we can guide her safely through her teenage years and ourselves survive the worry, the agonizing worry of sending a daughter out into the world, every single day. And, Mr. R. says already that he will be worthless as a parent because he's just going to give her everything she asks for (the marshmallow). Why, oh, why, did we ever think we could do this?
{sigh} My poor baby, Audrey Lee.