So the baby and I went in for echo cardiograms on Tuesday. The baby got to go first and was so good! The nurse doing taking the initial pictures said that she hadn’t ever had a baby be so easy to get the necessary pictures from. For them to get the right angles the baby has to move around and she said that most of the time you just have to wait until they decide to cooperate but it was like the baby knew exactly what it needed to do. Then she tried to take a look and see what kind of baby and of course for the non-essential shots the baby had impossibly crossed legs and would move them for a split second but then cement them back together blocking any kind of view. When the Pediatric Cardiologist came in she looked at the pictures and told the nurse she was disappointed because there was nothing she needed to get a better look at. She told us that our baby’s heart looks better than good, that it looks better than most normal babies. I’m so glad our baby has a perfect heart! The doc also took a look to see what we were having and managed to get a sort of look even though it wasn’t very good. She said that she wouldn’t put money on it or go buy things or paint just yet but that she couldn’t see any “outdoor plumbing” so she thinks we’re having a girl! She told us even before she looked that she thought we must be having a girl because of how well she behaved for heart pictures. The doc said that she knows it sounds sexist but boy babies just won’t pose like girl babies will. We’re not going to tell very many people about what she said (not very many of you read this that don’t know already)- we’ll wait another three weeks for another gender specific ultrasound but I’m really tired of calling the baby “it” so it’s nice to be able to say “she” or “Pearl”. Paul’s not convinced in the least though so he’s sticking with “the baby” for now.
My echo went alright I think. When I asked the nurse about what she saw she refused to say anything which I refuse to be worried about. It was kinda neat imagining what my heart looks like from the pics though. It sounds a lot different than I expected, rather like a soggy pair of galoshes. Lots of squishes and such.
Paul started Grad School on Monday morning. I’m so glad that I have a husband so completely willing to put up with the absolute crap he’s going to have thrown in his face by all his professors AND the other students. Last night he went to a class and the teacher has decided it will be completely about “right wing extremist groups” by which she means anyone who identifies themselves as Christian etc. One of the required texts is a book about how the family organization is apparently destroying society and America. People seriously think this? The professor is one Paul has for two classes and I’m worried about how accommodating she’ll be when she finds out that Paul has a wife who is going to have a baby and is due the first day of finals. Thank goodness most of the class is going to be 3 hour student presentations and that Paul got to choose his topic (he chose the collapse of Fanny Mae and Freddy Mac- maybe we should look up the Leftist bull crap on that so that he won’t get in trouble for telling the truth- on second thought he’ll be fine as long as he blames it all on Bush, right?). He knows the girl who chose to present on how “bad” the family unit is. She was a GTA in his most Marxist class last year. Every time he had Resuscitation he would argue with her (she had no say on his grade) because she was constantly talking about how the people killed on 9/11 were evil and those doing the killing were actually good guys. He says she remembers him- we’ll see how that goes.
Paul’s program is part of a larger “school” which is part of another “school” and the bigger “school” had a reception on Friday for people to get to know each other. Paul and I went and boy were we shocked (well, at least I was). We got there right as it started and people were already starting to get tipsy. The school provided a couple kegs and some boxed wine and some food and somehow chose the most awkward place for people to socialize (on the tiny front porch and in the front hall- it used to be a house). I met a really nice lady who is also a first year in Paul’s program. Her name is Christina and she’s from Brazil. She’s in her late thirties and is the first person who has ever touched my stomach. She just put her hand on it. So weird! She told me to sign up for VT daycare right now or else I wouldn’t have a chance of getting the baby in. She made it sound so urgent that it took me a second to step back and say, “wait a minute, I don’t need daycare!” I didn’t really talk to anyone else except for this girl who seemed nice and looked like Teensy. She and her husband (of two years too) just moved here to be in the Urban Affairs and Planning program and want to do sort of the same thing that Paul and I do only with structures instead of water and humanitarian aid things. She was really nice until she asked me why I was only working and not going to school with Paul and I said, “Oh! Because I’m going to be a mom in December!” I smiled and pointed to my stomach. She gave me the weirdest look- it started out puzzled and then her eyes narrowed and she said “Well, that’s okay for SOME people,” and walked off. I’m glad that I still have enough sense not to be offended. I’ve thought about that exchange quite a bit though and it really makes me sad. Satan is just awful. What a polluter of happiness. You can try all you want to be a good person and help other people but I don’t think that you’ll ever be as happy as you could be if you choose not to be parents. The fact that her reaction was so venomous makes me even more sad because you really will never be happy if you can’t let others live their own lives and do things that maybe you don’t agree with without getting so upset.
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