I write this Thursday night as I wait in breathless anticipation for Friday morning. You see, Elisa is getting her first ultrasound. If all goes well, we will huddle over a tiny monitor and go "oooh" and "ahhh" over a black smudge. I'll get a printout of the image, and proudly pass it out to bored and unimpressed co-workers.

But screw them! I've been on the receiving end of those lame ultrasound printouts. It's my turn to inflict the pain.

Anyway, the ultrasound thing reminded me of an old story:

When we first moved out to San Francisco, and after enduring a nightmarish year in dot.com hell, I started experiencing horrific stomach pains. During the diagnostic phase, the doctors thought I might have kidney stones, so they ordered an ultrasound.

I was laid down on a bed next to the ultrasound machine. The technician spread some sort of lube on my stomach, and started running the wand-like contraption over my gut. I looked at the screen and saw nothing. The image looked like a 1960s-vintage black and white TV on a bad reception day. After about a minute of this, in pain, bored out of my mind and trying to liven things up, I whipped out my brillaint joke:

"So, is it a boy or a girl?"

The technician rolled her eyes. She had heard the joke before. About a million times. She still should've laughed. My delivery was clearly much better than that of those other losers.

I had an ulcer, by the way. Not as dramatic as a baby, I'll reluctantly grant you that. But I beat Elisa to the ultrasound machine, and don't you think I'm not proud of that!

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Elisa has just entered the third lunar month of her pregnancy. It's only a matter of time before she feels the baby move for the first time.

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The baby's skin is starting to form, replacing the current "thin layer of ectoderm". I don't know what the heck that is, but it sounds freakin' cool! Fingernails, toenails, and hair follicles are beginning to form.

The tail is gone (so long dino-boy, we never knew thee...). The baby's sex still can't be determined by looking at external genitalia. So we wouldn't be able to get the baby's sex tomorrow, even if we wanted to. Which we don't.