I'll take "chunky labia" for 200, Alex

An unusual title for a blog post to be sure, but it reveals oh so much, as young Enid is in fact an Enid. Nope, no penis between those two legs that kick me mercilessly at 3am. One might wonder, and rightfully so, why the words "chunky labia" must be used. This I shall reveal, as well as other fascinating details about this being growing inside of me. It was an informative night at the ultrasound clinic, that much is for certain.

The ultrasound commenced with the rapid proclamation that young Enid had half of her head tucked behind my hipbone. No matter really, as I could still see her beating heart, her spine, and the occasional swipe of an arm or well-formed leg. The ultrasound tech said that Enid would most likely move her head at some stage, thus enabling a better view of her face and giving the tech a chance to get an accurate measure of her head. Not so. Surely this woman was aware that any child The Dude and I would produce is going to be the most stubborn little beast to ever cross her path. There was much jostling and tapping on my stomach by the tech, with Enid on the screen refusing to move her head, yet punching my uterus in fury as if to say, "Fuck off! Stop tapping me bitch!" To see her little fists moving in reaction to the shaking was more funny to me rather than the awakening of any maternal obligation to protect her. Instead, I was thinking to myself "That's my girl!", believing that was the first sign that this child is going to be one outspoken little madam. By the end of the night, the tech awarded Enid her first accolade: Most Stubborn Fetus of the Day.

In one of the breaks from attempts at head-dislodging and internal organ gazing, the tech pulled a Seacrest from two weeks ago when Chris was kicked off and was all, "It's a girl!" No lead up to the sexual organs, no telling us to brace ourselves for the announcement - she just came out with it. The Dude grinned like a simpleton, and I made the profound statement of "Girl". I meant to just think it, but it popped out nonetheless. I wasn't questioning her, just mulling over the verdict in my head. The tech proceeded to point out why it was labia we were looking at rather than testicles, and passed on the ultrasound tech wisdom that in their circles, they call it the hamburger. Yes, the hamburger. It seems that in profile on an ultrasound, labia resemble the outline of a hamburger. I think it seems like a cheesy euphemism, like those people who use cutesy words like "hoo hoo" or "bajingo" for vagina. I could picture myself telling Enid in later years, "Now honey, don't let anyone touch your hamburger. Those are your private parts and not for strangers!" or "Stop touching your hamburger!"

Oddly enough, Enid of the immovable head seemed to revel in touching her hamburger, even at this early stage of her life. What a proud moment. Twice the tech said, "Oh, her hand is between her legs", much to The Dude's enjoyment. In fact, the first time this was said, he laughed loudly and I was utterly humiliated at his response. We would have expected this of any son of his, but a daughter? Sort it out girl and leave your hamburger alone.

With further explanation of the sexual organs came the infinite statement that will definitely be told to Enid when she is older and able to handle its significance without acute embarrassment. Apparently the tech could tell Enid was a she because of a) the pronounced hamburgerness and b) the immense chunkiness of my baby's labia. Believe it or not, the words "chunky labia" were repeated at least twice by the tech with no hint of humour. I have no idea where Enid gets it from, as I think my labia are quite normal. Perhaps I have some sort of labia mutant growing inside of me, I don't know. I also hope her chunky labia doesn't manifest itself once she gets older, because who needs that predisposition to extreme camel toe?

Other lessons learned were:

1) Freddo has large, wide feet. Thanks for that one Dude. Poor kid will have to make her way in the world as a Yeti with chunky labia. Looks like that "sometimes life just isn't fair" speech will have to come to this one quite early.

2) Little wisps of hair could be seen on the back of her head, floating like diaphanous silk in the amniotic fluid. I am pleased that this would hint at her lack of complete baldness at birth.

3) She is measuring at average size for this stage (27w1d at ultrasound), hovering at the lower end of average. I was relieved that this would indicate that perhaps GD is not present, and it put the kernel of doubt in The Dude's mind that I am now not eating enough. Two weeks ago I was a fucking pig when I ate half a tub of Cherry Garcia, now I'm bloody malnourished. He does not make a trip to the kitchen now without offering to prepare some food for me.

The ultrasound concluded with Enid moving every part of her body regularly with the exception of her head, two CDs of her activities, and about 12 photos. I sometimes like to look at the photos when I'm alone, revelling at the little body parts on show. I cannot fathom that this tiny creature is still inside me and will make her appearance in about 12 short weeks if all goes to plan. To think that these are photographs of my daughter, my little girl...it's...well, nothing short of amazing. I often wonder how long it will take after her birth to say "my daughter" without feeling as if I'm lying, making up a life that isn't mine.

Enid had her first concert last night - Morrissey - and I spent most of the night juxtaposing the me that is a huge Morrissey fan with the idea of me as a mother who is proud of herself for exposing her child to his music in utero. I know it seems so lame to have these moments of faux enlightenment at a concert, but when the band started playing "How Soon Is Now" with the strobe lights creating a sort of unreal setting, I did get quite emotional. As I was listening to the music that had such a profound effect to my 14 year old self, locked in my room burning patchouli incense, reading poetry and wondering why no boy would ever like me, I find myself now on the cusp of being someone's mother. I was that 14 year old just yesterday, and now I am close to being the mother of a daughter. Jesus.