Monday, March 28, 2005

Wishbones and circles

This past Friday we went down to the OB’s office for the mid-pregnancy ultrasound. I watched the snow on the monitor expectedly, waiting to see a penis the size of a horse’s as it swished across the screen but no such luck. In fact, I didn’t see shit I could decipher whatsoever. When she asked us if we wanted to know the sex Jasmine said no, I said yes.

That’s when she angled the monitor away so Jazz couldn’t see it and told me to walk around. Before she did any genitalia finger pointing she explained to me that I was looking for one of two things: either a white wishbone which indicated a girl, or a round circle which indicated a boy. You mean a round circle with a gargantuan penis attached?

She was not amused.

All right. Let’s do this. Go fish.

The thingy swished and swirled and she clicked the mouse button for a freeze frame. She used the cursor to draw an arrow around a smudge on the screen and notified me that was Twin A's genitalia. Bullshit. That’s a glare.

“Is that your best shot?”

I love it when women roll their eyes at me.

She pointed at it and told me to hello, remember the shapes, Mr. Babies' Daddy. Oh yeah, so round is boy, wishbone is girl. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

I stared.

“Do you see it?”

“Uh…yes. Yes I do.”


“No. Can I buy a vowel?”

“I’ll tell you later. Let’s look at Twin B. There. See it? Right there where I’m circling.”

Uh-huh. Right there. Yeah.

Ah, Jesus. For the love of God, woman, just spit it out! I’m not wearing my secret decoder glasses today. I know it’s a baby. I’ve got that much. I see the head, the hands, the legs, the heart. I got the big organs, all right. But there’s no round circle, white wishbone, blue diamonds, purple horseshoes, green clovers, yellow moons or any other shit up in there.

“Do you see it?” she had to ask.

Bitch, is my ignorance not evident with the deep crease between my brows? Dammit, lady, ‘fess up. “I’m afraid I’m not sure.”

Even Jasmine groaned.

“That’ll be enough out of you.” Woman better recognize.

After the ultrasound Jasmine got dressed and went back to the room she loves so much. The one where they mash her into the table, grope her ass, tweak her nipples and measure the result of it all. I stayed behind to face the sonographer alone.


She flashed me the chart.

I smiled. “I’ll be damned.”