The minute your little heart appeared on the screen and I realized you looked like an actual baby and  not the little gummy-bear-bean I first saw at the 8 week ultrasound, my own heart did a little skip.  Four perfect little chambers, beating at 150 beats per minute.  It sounded like a train chugga-chugging through the room and I just smiled.

The doctor went over all the details of your little body.  The stomach looked good.  The brain looked good.  Check out those fingers spreading, which was a good sign that we needn’t worry too much about any mental disabilities.  I knew right then where a parent’s incredible pride swells from because at that minute I was so proud that you were so healthy.

You were a complete spaz.  You were kicking all over the place and kept flailing your arms up.  The doctor joked that he couldn’t get a clear picture because you kept smacking yourself in the face.  The only pictures we were able to get of your sweet little mug was of two sweet little hands hiding it.  The doctor kept assuring us that with a little bean as active as you were, he’d be sure to have an easy time getting a photo of the important bits, which we were so eager to know.

But time and time again, after we’d poke you and I’d wiggle around a little, you’d stay firm, keeping your legs shut.  Are you sure you aren’t a stubborn Taurus like your father and me?  But finally the doctor clicked a quick picture and looked at us and grinned.  Without announcing he asked us “Do you see what I see?”  That’s when the tears started to flow and I looked over at your dad and he was beaming from ear to ear.  You were definitely a boy.  And my heart did another skip.  From that moment forward we watched you wiggle a little more and refuse to give in and humor us with a little face shot.  So we’re still guessing whose chin you might have and what your nose is shaped like.  But that’s ok.  Because I feel like I know you already.  And you are perfect.


Your mom