This morning I went in to get a flu shot, and ended up getting sent to the emergency room. Fortunately, there was no real emergency. My baby, which had been kicking up a storm all week, felt like it stopped kicking me for about a day, and I asked the doctor if they could just check the heartbeat or something. They didn't have the equipment and my OBGYN's office is closed on Fridays, hence the visit to the emergency room, where they hooked me up to a fetal monitor. The baby is just fine, moving and kicking up a storm. Since I'm only at 21 weeks, it's normal for me to not be able to feel it all the time.
I don't plan to write a whole lot about my pregnancy or about my child once born. I guess I figure that it'll have enough childhood trauma, what with two total nerds for parents. The last thing it'll need is anecdotes from early childhood and baby pictures on the web for its prom date to go digging up eighteen years from now.
But I have a few little updates. We've had another ultrasound and the technician seems pretty sure it's a boy. I always have to be careful how I phrase that because it seems like I can't win with people. When I say it's probably a boy, I get people pouncing on me with stories about all the times they know of that the technician was wrong. (I know they can be wrong. I see the ultrasound pictures. I can't make out anything.) If I hedge any more than that, though, people start to say, "Ah, clearly you want a girl then." Um... no. I am totally indifferent. If I wanted to be able to order exactly what I wanted, I wouldn't be becoming a parent in the first place. I'd go into building classic cars or something. We plan to collect unisex clothing and nursery decorations, because even if this is probably a boy, we're hoping it isn't our only child.
We do not have names picked out yet. Even when we do, I plan to keep them to myself. There are a lot of months still to go and a lot of time to have different opinions and ideas.