Brace yourselves, folks, this could be a long one.
After four days at the airport, I finally made it on a flight. I was on the phone with Sister 3 when I glanced up and saw my name on the cleared list. I raced over to the desk to ask if I'd imagined it, but before I could get a word out the desk attendant ceremoniously handed me a ticket with my name on it. I might have kissed her on the cheek and then burst into tears from the relief. And, it wasn't just any old ticket... that's right, I got a seat in FIRST CLASS. It deserves the capitals. I was greeted at my seat with a flute of orange juice and a menu from which to choose my dinner selections...! I was given a real pillow, a real quilt, and noise cancelling headphones. Dinner was five courses. I managed to sleep for four full hours, and when i woke up I was greeted with a warm croissant and a plate of fresh fruit. I was given a fast pass through passport control. My hands, feet and ankles were not swollen. Basically, it was awesome.
The bonus was the fact that by making the flight on Saturday, I didn't miss the scan we booked before my exodus to Texas (the only reason I was so stressed about getting back to the UK by Monday morning). Himself managed to keep me awake for the whole day after I got off the plane, a personal first (I always say I'm going to stay up, and then I fall asleep, and when Himself tries to wake me up I get a little violent) so I actually managed a full night's sleep on Sunday night.
We made our way to the hospital on Monday morning, rested and ready to find out the story about Baby Brown. Then, of course, we made it to the maternity ward car park. Where it was one in, one out. With seven cars in front of us. With fifteen minutes to our appointment. So, Himself went to park the car at the university while I went in to let them know I was there. Having fully expected, especially from the state of the car park, to have a significant wait ahead of me, consider my shock when I was informed I'd be seen exactly at my appointment time and if Himself didn't make it back from parking in time that he'd be shown back to the scan room when he eventually made it in. I immediately called to find out how far away the car had ended up, which led to Himself sprinting back out of fear that he'd miss the scan. This, from the man who doesn't even run for a bus. *lol* He arrived, breathless and sweaty, just as the lady was calling my name.
We headed back to the exam room, I got gooed up with the gel they use, and the lady started checking the normal health stuff. She got clear shots of the feet, ankles, legs, arms, brain, and one kidney. The child had its legs crossed, and refused to give up the goods on the rest of the health stuff too, so the scan tech told me to go take a walk and drink a coke and come back. Half a coke and a dance around the waiting room later, I was re-gelled and flat on my back for the second round. The tech got the other kidney, the heart, the bladder, the stomach and the lips (they check for cleft palate here)... and still no junk, as this time the baby had its feet up in the crotch like it was doing yoga. The tech said we could give it one more shot and sent me out for the rest of that coke and another walk. Himself had to run (again, literally) back to the car and put more money on the meter, and made it back to the waiting room just in time for us to get called back again. Thrice gelled and on my back, we waited breathlessly (Himself a little more breathless than yours truly due to his extensive cardio workout) to see if the little monster would finally give up the goods...
Three little lines. Thus came crashing down the hopes of having a boy. *lol* There was a clear, distinct lack of penis on that screen, and no matter how we poked and prodded Baby Brown, she truculently refused to grow one. So, a daughter we shall have. We've been discussing names, and without even trading blows or raising voices, but no decisions made yet so you'll all have to hold your horses.
Speaking of Herself (I'm seeing this becoming a thing), I woke up at 1:14am this morning needing the ladies', and got back in bed assuming I'd drop right back off like I did the night before. Madam had other ideas. Methinks she figures she's Texan, because her days and nights are COMPLETELY transposed. She took the time after 1:14 to practice barrel rolls and sparring with the walls of my insides. I managed to stick it out until 3:48am, at which point I gave up entirely and went downstairs to watch TV. Well, I partly watched TV and partly watched my stomach lurch from side to side. Because she never calmed down. Himself woke up and had a shower around half six, so I went back upstairs to lounge in the bed and watch him get ready. Kit joined me, of course, which made it all the more cozy when I dropped off shortly after Himself left for work. I managed to sleep through the first of his phone calls around ten to ten, but the one at quarter to eleven pierced my determined doze and I decided I should maybe wake up. The rest of the day, you ask? I've done NOTHING. I've watched Gilmore Girls, I've faffed around online, I've messed with the cats. It's been heaven.
I will eventually have to leave the house, I'm aware of this fact. Just not today. Hope you're all having as good a day as I've had, minus the abdominal gymnastics.