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…Mystery!

We're at the hospital RIGHT NOW waiting for the ultrasound. I will be sure to update this post with Nublet's gender pretty soon after we know. Isn't it exciting?

Update:

Our beautiful baby BOY is doing well, and right on his target weight and size for his expected due date. Click the picture above for a few more pictures. I feel kind of bad for some of the things I said to the Ultrasound Tech this morning. I'll try to explain it in a way that doesn't make me sound like a monster.

8:00 – We arrive at the hospital for the ultrasound. Appointment is for 8:30, but they ask you to come early for paperwork and some flexibility in timing.

8:10 – The woman working the check-in desk tells us that the scheduling service booked us at a different location. I asked if they could squeeze us in or at least do something since we were already there. They could, but there were no guarantees on time, and we didn't want to risk waiting an extra hour; so we headed for the other facility. (It's worth noting that Megan was aware both facilities shared the scheduling service and specifically asked for it to be scheduled at the hospital because her OB appointment, at 9:30, was right next door. Grumble!)

8:30 – Arrive at the correct (but incorrect!) location, check in, and wait to be called back.

8:40 – Megan is taken back, but I'm told I have to wait in the waiting room while she takes some measurements; but that she'll come get me ASAP. I later found out that she did say it would be about 20 minutes before she would come get me. I guess I didn't hear this because of the initial shock of being told to wait outside. I was flabbergasted, and to be honest I'm surprised I formed a coherent sentence and made my way back to a chair without melting into a puddle of goo.

8:45 – Thinking to myself, "Gosh, this is taking a while." Also, I've read the only interesting article in InStyle magazine. Twice.

8:49 –

8:50 – Starting to suffocate on my thoughts. Is something wrong? Why is it taking so long? Would they come get me if there was?

8:54 – Protection instincts kicking in. Sizing up the clerk. Counting other patients in the waiting area. Body count could get pretty bad.

So by the time she came to the door at around 9:04, I exploded out of my chair and politely made my way back into the room. Hopefully at this point you understand, at least a little bit, what's going on in my head.

I asked her what exactly she was doing, and why I couldn't be in there. She said that having the father in the room was generally too chaotic and made it difficult to get all of the measurements before she would be ready to show us the baby. In hindsight, this is definitely understandable, but very, VERY poorly explained up front. I told her that I was a little upset and anxious from having to wait outside, not knowing how long it would be or what was going on, or if everything was ok. I may have raised my voice.

Just a little.

I didn't think I was all that rude. And for the record, I never took my hands off of the side of the bed (which I know can seem hostile) — all I did was try to explain my feelings. I just wanted to let her know that I was upset because I had to wait outside. And anxious because I didn't get (apparently, through no fault of hers) a time frame, nor did I know exactly what was going on or if my baby was ok. She took it extremely personally, even to the point of almost crying. From my point of view, I still don't know what her problem was, or why she took it so personally.

But I didn't want it to affect Megan, so at this point I volunteered, more than once because she was either hard of hearing or hell bent on exacerbating the situation, to shut up if she could keep it together and just get through it. And by some miracle, she did. Very quickly, everyone was in good spirits again. I apologized several times before we left.

I didn't mean to hurt her feelings, but I think there is room for great improvement in their process. (Take a moment to explain WHY you're separating us, and make sure I CLEARLY understand the time frame.) Being a first time parent can be scary enough without strangers separating you from your wife and child for an unknown duration and no communication.

I'm not a monster, right?

Now that I'm not spending 8 hours a week commuting into the city, I'm going back to the gym. For reals!

I even ordered this t-shirt to wear while I'm at the gym.

I hope it holds up to washing well, because it's going to get a lot of use! … now I just need my workout buddy back. Cough.