Wow.  I’m over the threshold of pregnancy.  We’re on a downward slope.  I will soon be pushing something out of my nu-nu.

The main development at 21 weeks is that I have suddenly been blessed with a RAGING case of acid reflux.  After some long, horrific nights, I figured out that anything with tomato sauce or tomato anything is OUT after six p.m.  Otherwise, I will be enjoying it all night long.  And even that is not a guarantee, as some nights are blissfully acid-free while others still creep up, regardless of our dinner that evening.

The baby is now very active.  There is movement all the time, with odd things setting the baby off.  For instance.. some songs of Nunsense really jazzed the baby up.  Others did not.  The baby loves for Bryan to talk to it, but not in rhyme.  And today, the baby had the hiccups.  Which was one of the more bizarre feelings ever.

All in all, I can’t complain too much.  The doctor today had nothing but fabulous things to say about our situation: the baby is in the 50% percentile for growth, the heart has formed fine, THE BABY HAS A FACE, and my weight is.. well, my weight is something we’re gonna watch for the next half of the pregnancy.

I know that you’re reading this for one reason, so here ya go.  When I met the ultrasound tech and Bryan in the room (I HAD to pee), she said, “Your husband says you’d like to know the gender this ultrasound, if we can see it.  Now, I have to warn you that some people don’t.. oh.  Well.”

And we gasped.

Now, let me say, I SUCK at reading ultrasounds.  We measured all sorts of crap on my child today and I could only make out the extremely obvious parts (usually feet because there were toes).  I had to admit that, halfway through it, what I had assumed was the head was actually the abdomen.  I really do suck at it.  But let it never be said that I’m ignorant as to all things: I have always, ALWAYS known a penis when I saw one.

And it was just so.. out there.. that even the tech was amazed.  Bryan is damn proud.  We will post the pics tomorrow so everyone can gaze at my beautiful child’s cash-and-prizes.  The baby danced for us quite a bit through the ultrasound (I think he doesn’t like paparazzi), so we got great views of his spine, his limbs, his heart, and even his little fingers.

Now.  We have NO boy names.  Crap.