Foetographs III

Last updated: Wed, 23 Apr 2008 08:06:00 GMT

Pictures of Pinchey.

We went for our 12-week ultrasound last week, the so-called "dating scan." A mixed experience, our midwife made a mistake with some paperwork and the dragon-bitch receptionist at the clinic spoke to us like we were retarded. I may look like a clown, but I'm not a fool. The scans were a pleasure, though, once the paperwork was squared away. Ultrasound technology is improving, it would seem, and the pictures we saw were fantastic. Sadly, though, we were provided with medical transparencies, not a paper printout, and the scans I made of our scans show none of the detail that we saw at the time. They're better when they're moving, anyway, and Pinchey is certainly moving.

Why "Pinchey?" Yet another Simpsons reference, I'm afraid. Whenever people ask us what we're hoping for, I say "a lobster." The last two were called "Spudford" and "Peanut." What are we hoping for? Nothing. That kind of hope is ill-advised, I think. As sickly as it sounds, I really do hope for no more than that our children are happy and healthy. Beyond that, why would you be disappointed to receive an otherwise happy and healthy child? Assuming that you're not already disappointed with Durex, that is.