While Spencer was at preschool this morning, he learned (as he later excitedly recounted) how to roll and somersault. Coincidentally, Lydia and I experienced an amazing somersault of our own.
Today was Lydia's 16-week appointment. After the usual check-ups -- weight, blood pressure, blood work, etc. -- we were treated to an ultrasonic view of our baby. Many of you have seen ultrasounds before in all their black-and-white, impressionist glory. That's the head, you're told, and...wow! There it is, really, a head: complete with eyes and a mouth and what may be a nose or a kind-of black line in the middle of the white oval. And there are the hands. And the legs. And there, right there, is truly, unmistakably, a beating heart. And there's...oh wait, the baby's moving. The baby turned over for us, to give a nice profile view. Yup, bottom-side down, there's distinctly the baby's rump. And turning again? And, swear to God, what looks like the legs are ... kicking??? The doctor confirms it, this baby is dancing for us, kicking its legs, turning around...gettin' DOWN.
We saw our baby's first dance today and it looks like this kid has a serious groove. There's more than enough room to bust a move for now without Lydia feeling a thing but what will it be like two months from now?
There was no way to determine gender on this visit but we know that the next time we see the doctor (at the end of October), we'll know whether it's a-Fred Astaire or a-Ginger Rogers in there. So come November, will we start getting the tux-and-tails or the gown-and-pearls ready for the grand, dancing debut?
Bets, anyone?
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