Today was a BIG day!

Today, we had our last sonogram. I was a bit nervous, but Emily, who knows the little dude is in there kicking all of the time, knew that everything was going to be okay. That's why she's got such a big smile on her face in the following picture!




And the little guy checked out fine. Our sonographer is super nice, so she spent a lot of time getting us good, recognizeable shots that we could take home with us. For example, check out how cute little Abercrombie is in the following shot. She was also nice enough to label the pictures for us so we wouldn't mistake the little guy's face for, say, well, you know...





So we did all of the major checks: spine (okay), head (about 1.5 weeks oversized -- Emily was not pleased), weight (3 lb. 13 oz, 51st percentile (our kid's above the median!)), kidneys (bean-shaped), heart (beating like a drum). And look, the little guy's got more hair than his pop! We watched his face for awhile, he yawned, and took a couple of drinks, and then when our sonographer got a bit more aggressive with the wand, little Otto raised one side of his lip and gave us his first (but I'm sure not his last) documented sneer. The little whippersnapper.



And look--the sonographer found a turtle in there for little Ignatz to play with! (Make of that what you will...) Who knew that kids came with their own stuffed animals?

Everything is on target for a February 17 delivery--we'll keep you posted!

Notable quotes from our childbirth education class

"Why do I need to go to class? I already know how to pace around the waiting room and hand out cigars. That's all I have to do, right?" -- Alan, on the way to the class*

"Men, I'd recommend you not say that 'we' are going to get through this. Your wives will be quick to tell you that there's no 'we' in labor." -- Laura, our lamaze instructor

"But if you use the British spelling of labour, it's got an 'our' in it. Can I say that 'our labor is going fine'?" -- Alan*

"During the first phase of labor, I was mostly just excited about what was coming down the pipe." -- Man in childbirth video [Note: He probably said "pike" instead of "pipe," but I certainly heard "pipe," which was pretty darn funny to those of us in the room from whose "pipe" something would be coming.]

"She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes..." -- Same man in childbirth video, now during the more intense stage of labor. I immediately vetoed the singing of campfire songs during the birth of our kid, despite Alan's insistence that he does a rousing version of "Coming 'Round the Mountain" and his offer to sing My Darling Clementine instead.

"That doesn't look like a baby." -- Woman in childbirth video, upon seeing her newborn on its way out. I felt a little sad for her, and I immediately prayed that I won't feel that way, and if I do, that I won't say it out loud on tape!


* Note: Smart ass comments from Alan were often followed by a threat of violence from me, usually predicting a carefully placed hit to a particularly sensitive area that might eliminate the need for any future childbirth classes.

Men don't have "showers" -- they have "parties."

I learned to play bridge when I was a teenager. My high school boyfriend's parents taught us to play, which was a stroke of parental genious, I think, because we spent most of our dates in their living room playing bridge. So even if it was midnight, they knew where we were and what we were doing. Brilliant.

Anyway, I didn't play much in college, but when I moved out here for law school, I signed up to take an adult education city recreation commission bridge class just for fun. At class, I met Mark and Wally, two friends who worked together here in Champaign. They played bridge with some coworkers everyday during lunch, and they invited me to join them whenever I could tear myself away from my studies.

And thus began a fun relationship with a group of guys at a publishing company in Champaign. (There was a woman who played back in the 1998 or 1999, but for the past 6 years or so, it's just been an assortment of 3-7 various menfolk.)

I've been joining them for bridge at least a day or two a week since February 1998, excluding the times when I left the area for various jobs. This group celebrated with me after Alan and I got married, made Clarice Starling/Silence of the Lambs jokes when I got the FBI job out in DC, applauded my law school graduation, emailed to keep in touch while I was living in Chicago, came to our going-away party before we left for Palau, and admired my tan when I returned.

In keeping with tradition, the guys threw me a baby shower yesterday, except they refused to call it a shower, adamently proclaiming that men have parties, not showers. Nomenclature aside, they ordered a cute baby cake (the wife of one of the guys is a professional cake-baker -- just my luck!!) and picked out a gift designated specifically for Alan -- diapers.

Talking with them yesterday, it hit me that the "baby boy" gene is somewhere in the water at that office. The five guys who were there yesterday have a combined total of 15 boys and only 3 girls. And they quite enjoy tormenting me about baby boys -- things about throwing baseballs into ceiling fans and mixing bleach with brake fluid to make smoke. Yeesh... what am I getting myself into...