let's hear it for the boy! also, bassinet lust

i had a dream this morning that justin and i were in some big product launch orientation meeting (note: we do not work together) and that whomever was answering the phone took a message for us and then told us that z was a two-year-old boy named bob.

i laughed because (1) z was a girl and (2) the dimwits mistook the tech's name for the baby's name and assumed it was a boy and (3) based the age on how long we've been at this. and then i woke up to get my pee on, and i laughed even more, but i did wonder if it was a sign.

i guess it was. but this baby will not be named bob.

either i was dumb to tempt fate by drinking pomegranate juice at 7:30 am (i've not been consuming anything until 9:30 or 10:00 to avoid regurgitating it) or i was more nervous than i thought, but as we walked out the door this morning i leaned over the porch rail and deposited the pomegranate juice in the coleus bed. as signs go, that one scared me, since i haven't actually puked in weeks (the daily gag-and-wretch routine when i brush my teeth does not count).

then when we got to the fetal diagnostic center, we waited for-ev-er because apparently they needed some special room for me. we thought it must be that they were trying to find a room in which we hadn't previously gotten bad news. good luck, fellas. finally, we got to go back, and we had the manager of the sonographers doing the ultrasound, which felt both scary and encouraging.

and then - to see z (i mean, milo) moving. the best thing ever, in the history of the universe. (i will be thrilled when i can actually feel all that movement; now, i feel only the occasional tap.) the good news started rolling in: brain well-formed, good fluid, good crease, nice fontenels, cranium measuring exactly right for age; a four-chamber heart, pumping away; spine nicely formed and nicely sealed up; hands and feet - well, z has hands and feet, but he kept them balled up, so it was hard to count fingers and toes, but there are at least some of each there; and then the kidneys, which didn't work so well for hans, were measuring perfectly, and the bladder was there, and the hip bones, and then all of the sudden - the little winkie. and then the little nut sack. (nuussssaaaaaack! i love that word.) and of course, the cord, the thing i was most nervous about - there were both the arteries, bright red and pulsing, and the big blue vein, adding up to three, the magic number. have i ever been so happy?

as to z's boyhood: i thought i would be disappointed, a little, if z turned out to be a boy. when we learned hans was a boy, i was in shock, and i definitely mourned his lost girlhood for a short while. but i was really happy about that little winkie today. my only negative thought was that sweet coalminer and some of the others of you who were so sure z was a girl were going to be disappointed. frankly, if that's my biggest problem, i'm doing better than okay. and all the lovely congratses, even the surprised ones, have been lovely. :)

after we saw the peri and then the ob, i finally got to look at justin and say the word: MILO! it's nice and round and lush on the tongue, with a little bite from the long i. what a pleasure to say his name, over and over. i hope, when i want to yell at him, i can remember the pleasure saying his name gives me and calm down before i speak to him rather than screaming his name with all my might.

i called my mom first, who was thrilled that things went so well, and then told her his name. i held my breath a bit, because it took her a while to come around to johannes, but she loved zinan, loved the meaning. it took a minute or two to work through milo; the only milo she has ever known was a crusty old bachelor farmer, when she was 5 or 6, so she had to do a mental adjustment, but by the time we got off the phone, she was digging it.

i told her what the peri said about milo's head, after looking both of us over: "he's got dad's head!" and my mom said, "i bet he'll look just like hans." i was taken aback for a minute until i understood that hans is still current for her, still her grandson, a fact of the present and not just a relic of the past. and then it was the perfect thing to say. sometimes she doesn't get it, but sometimes - like today - she just nails it.

next i called justin's dad, who was ecstatic and loved zinan but had to keep asking about milo; apparently, he understood marlo at first. once we got it straightened out, he loved the name, too. justin called his mom then, who reportedly was over the moon about everything being so great and loved the names, too.

a few minutes ago, my sister called me, and when i answered, she said, "so i hear i'm having another nephew!" how do these people know the perfect thing to say to me??? everyone at work is thrilled, too, and loves both names but especially the zinan, which is a surprise, because we expected it would take people some getting used to. honestly, at this point, i think we could say his middle name was mud or cock-a-doodle-doo or banana and people would be happy for us, but people seemed to be especially moved by the meaning of zinan (second son).

my dear, sweet milo z - so many people adore you already. you are one lucky ducky.

*****

since i actually feel like this whole thing might really happen, i've resumed looking at cribs. we never got around to getting one the first time around; we figured hans would sleep in the bassinet in our room for the first few weeks anyway, so we weren't in a hurry. if we can borrow someone else's, i will be fine, as long as it is not this heart-shaped crib. how awful is that??? it makes me want to drink a giant bottle of pomegranate juice, just so i can puke all over it.

what i really, really want is the ooba nest - it makes me feel restful just looking at it. but i do not have $500 hanging around for an extra bassinet, so i will just have to fantasize.