It's a BOY!!!

It's a boy, it's a boy, it's a boy, boy, boy. It's a boy, it's a boy, it's a boy, boy, boy. It's a boy, it's a boy, it's a boy, boy, boy. It's a booooooooooy, it's a boy, boy, boy. (to the lone ranger theme)

Pictures and a full length post to follow.

Gotcha!

The scheduled day for discovering the sex of Baby Double B has come and gone and no news? What . . . how is this even possible?

Well, it would seem that Baby Double B is smarter than any baby ever in the history of recorded time. I can only surmise that Double B could hear us talking about the sonogram as we were preparing for it and quickly turned his/her back to the sonogram and curled into a partial ball to hide the girl or boy parts. I am a little concerned that the tucking did reveal some thermo-dynamics equations on the back of Tyf's uterus that, if I understood them, would require Dr. Guerra to wear some sort of protective vest during delivery. Then, after persistent maneuvering of the sonogram, Double B began to shoo us away taking his or her modesty to the extreme. And I'm fairly certain just before the sonogram was removed Double B "flipped me the bird" and began to giggle!

Actually, there was no sonogram. The doc in her infinite wisdom decided it would be better to wait until 24-28 weeks to be absolutely certain of the baby's sex. Of course, she changed her mind after 30 seconds into the checkup yesterday. So, what started out being one of the coolest anniversary gifts Tyfany and I could have had that was then denied us, really could have been but for the lack of an appointment. The appointment has been set for this Friday the 26th. Be expecting another blog posting. If you haven't yet voted time is running short, get to it.

Some results are in...

Unfortunately, only some of the results. The sex of baby B-B is still an unknown, possibly Sept. 23 if all goes as planned. The results that we do have are from "most" of the blood work. If you remember from a previous post, the blood-draw turned into a bit of a fiasco (even though I don’t think vomiting on a nurse is that big a deal). It turns out that an unconscious-vomiting-convulsing baby mama can keep the nurses from getting enough blood to run all the tests. The tests they were able to run came back “A-OK”. And the tests that were run were the ones concerning the baby’s development. Thus, baby B-B (I was told I can’t use “Fetus” anymore) is normal for AFP, hCG, uE3 and, apparently, the “rh factor” isn’t going to be a factor. So, short but sweet, everything is progressing perfectly (even though Tyf still thinks she has the diabetes). Perhaps after the next round of tests we can put the ‘betes to bed.

The truth is in there.

For those of you who have voted on the likely sex of Fetus the answer will be revealed in a few short weeks. In fact, the date scheduled for the ultra-sound is Tyfany and my 3rd wedding anniversary. Due to the excitement of the last doctors visit (i.e. needles, vomit, and seizures . . See below) we didn’t realize that we had selected our anniversary to find out the sex of Fetus. Funny how these things happen, but this gives all of you late voters until September 23rd to make your decision. Every vote counts, especially if it’s for a boy . . . that’s right Ed, a boy.