Oh, Baby Ultrasound!

We went for an ultrasound recently, so the Gynea could check if we had 10 fingers and 10 toes, among other things, in there. Rockstar of course brought along his iPod (someday we’re gonna have to edit the thing – Kings recently brought him for drinks with clients and he abruptly offered, “Who wants to hear my Daddy snore?” I hadn’t caught on when, heading home from a dinner with another family recently, he had declared, “(Friend’s son) says his daddy definitely snores loudly than our daddy.” I thought they were making up their own noises….)

Our Gynea doesn’t believe in “unnecessary” ultrasounds, saying she doesn’t want to read in a medical journal in another 10 or 20 years that “new research shows…..” potential bad effects of ultrasound-ing. As a result, we – Rockstar in particular – have been waiting for ages for this glimpse.

When we arrive, there is for the first time in all my visits another child there, a little Rockstar-sized Cantonese-speaking girl hugging a teddy, who is also about to witness a sibling’s ultrasound (must be useful in helping elder siblings adjust to the new addition). And so Rockstar watches avidly as my Gynea checks the presence and completeness of most internal organs as best she can (apparently you can only be about 80% sure of say, the completeness of the heart for instance – I ask specifically re both rockstars because I remember someone else’s baby born missing a heart chamber in what would become a very sad and painful ordeal for the family in the ensuing months after the baby was born), and supplies another nugget of information we lap up, in all our eagerness to know as much about the little person whom we will soon get to meet: The baby has a slightly small head, is a bit small, but with long limbs.

Pretty much the physical opposite of Rockstar, who was big, practically all head, and with a huge nose to boot – in fact even in the sketchy 2D ultrasound you could make out King’s features. Rockstar looked nothing like me for at least half a year of his life, the only way you could tell he was mine after he was out, just from looking, was from the matching hospital tags we had on. As frivolous, self-indulgent thoughts go, I remember being happy he was a boy, because Kings would make a pretty ugly girl 😀

Well anyway I still got an earful for losing a pound in the last couple weeks. I eat, and I’m still doing 2-4 eggs 4-5 days a week, not to mention about 2-3 bananas a day, on top of additional carbs in my regular meals, but my Gynea is inexorable. “You were supposed to be gaining. If you’re not, then it’s coming out of your reserves. That means you’re running around too much. <glancing at Rockstar> We always take care of the one we can see.”

(At which point Rockstar solemnly vows to bother his dad more… But it’s hard, Kings has been traveling so much, and I’ll be darned if I outsource more than the absolute bare minimum of Rockstar’s care to the helper – which means all she does is literally 20 mins of picking him up after school before handing him back to me, wherever I am at the time…) Speaking of which, I’m equally determined not to park him in front of the tv either, resulting in unlimited Lego and puzzles, and all manner of books – I’ll read anything he wants, including encyclopedia entries about coral reefs and more recently the solar system. We had a brief relationship with Tintin comics, but I grumbled a lot at my mum for sending them – because of the number of times I have to keep explaining to Rockstar that if you drink that much juice, you really can go that crazy as Captain Haddock, because of all the sugar. So then we got encyclopedias about sea life, spiders…..)

“Here’s something to really make you pay attention – if you don’t start gaining weight again, after having this second one, you’re going to age a lot.” I notice Kings react. Hee hee. Really? “Yes of course, you’re taxing your body too much…..”

So I really do have to scale it down a bit. That’s when we finally decide to abolish my 3km walks with JD every Saturday. I read to Rockstar in bed, resulting however in him bringing his dinner in to join me there (and occasionally spilling it in my bed as well). But I’m starting to wonder if I’m burning calories from mental energy, rather than physical exertion, Rockstar can be very tiring to talk to, if you really go about answering all his questions (another reason I will never let a helper do more than the bare minimum – I remember a previous helper answering his question about a dead sparrow we came across with a very graphic foot stomping motion to illustrate how someone had killed it because she thought that was just hilarious…) Add to that I’ve taken a mild interest in playing the piano again (the baby really kicks when I learn new pieces!) – and then I get wayyy more hungry……

Ps: That was two weeks ago; at the subsequent follow up I’ve gained back the weight and then some… Though my friends are saying maybe I should cut back on the bananas 😛