It's a.....!

The brain looks good.  The heart looks good.  There's the stomach.  Great.  These are all perfectly interesting organs, but I'm not here to look at some fetus' bladder.  I throw out the phrase "some fetus" as if it's not my fetus, the little fetus that's been wiggling and kicking and making itself known in my growing belly.  I'm glad all of these organs are there, of course, and that they all look normal. But there's only one organ that I'm interested in.  There's only one part that I care about.  And this infuriating fetus, with it's perfectly shaped brain and sleepy looking eyes, is being a total asshole and keeping its legs as tightly crossed as fetusly possible.

It's getting to the point where I feel like the ultrasound tech is going to tell us we have to come back tomorrow.  She shakes the transducer against my belly.  She makes me lay on my right side, then on my left side.  Chris kicks me near the kidneys for good measure.  All for nothing until finally, gloriously, my itty bitty child uncrosses its legs.

"There it is!" the ultrasound tech announces grandly.

"The penis?  Where?"  I am fully prepared to hear that she is proclaiming that it's my third son in there, the Abraham or Adam to my Andy and Alex.

"Nope.  The labia!  It's a girl!"

What!?  Are you kidding me?  Is this for real?  It's a girl?  It's not another boy?!  Oh my God!  How is this even possible?  I thought for sure we were incapable of producing anything but boys!  Check again!  Look everywhere for that penis.  Are you sure you didn't mean "lapel?"  As in my son's lapel on his tiny little fetal suit, the one he wears when he carries his briefcase?  Are you sure you didn't mean "label," as in the sticker that says, "Boom!  Boy!"  Are you sure you didn't mean testicles? Really?  Holy.  Crap.

I think to myself, "I am so happy it's a girl!  It's perfect!  Two older brothers and a little sister!  It's just what I wanted.  I got it.  Wow."

And I think to myself, "Aww.  I don't get another boy.  I don't get a snuggly little guy.  I don't get that last and final boy.  What will I do with this kid?  Wow."

And of course my friends seem over the moon for me that I am getting that girl that I not so secretly wanted.  Of course, a girl is the perfect way to round out this gender-lopsided family.  But I am instantly defensive of my boys.  Of my sons who shall never think, "Mom wanted a girl."

Because I wanted THEM.  Just as they are, in all their perfect boyish glory.  I did not get pregnant to try for a girl.  We got pregnant to add to our family.

And it just so happens to have a labia.

I am still absorbing the news.  The boys were not overly thrilled to hear that there's a sister in my tummy, and when I asked Andy if he would be a good big brother to his little sister, he replied,

"Um, I was going to be a good big brother to a BOY."

Oh.  Well, I can't argue with that.

Nonetheless, I can't wait to see these boys with their little sister, to see how the dynamics work as they grow up together.  I can't wait to see Chris with his daughter.  And I can't wait to see me with a girl.  Part of me fears it will be so incomprehensibly different than what I'm used to, but I have to remind myself that they're all children, my children, and that at the heart of the matter, it will be just as wonderfully the same.  However.  It's been months since I've touched a comb to Andy and Alex's hair.  So, perhaps a few things will be different.

Eh.  Maybe I'll leave the hair combing to Daddy.