OK, I tried, really tried, to do the patient thing, but that probably got the better of me. It niggled at the back of my mind, a web of 'what ifs' and not quite daring to get my hopes up, and I caved. In a pathetic heap of credit card guilt, at the end of last week I sneaked into Babybond in Manchester for a gender scan.
I lay back on the bed in the darkened room. The sonographer's screen was projected onto the wall in front of me, a giant reflection, a 10 foot high view, of what's going on inside. 'This baby's very active' she said. In fact it was almost the polar opposite of my NHS 20 week scan as the baby sumersaulted, waved and flipped. It took seconds to locate the relevant information and magnify it. And after all that, the baby IS a girl, I've seen the evidence with my own eyes.
I didn't know how to feel. Relieved I suppose that the excitement I'd allowed myself to start feeling over the last couple of weeks (thoughts of small stripy tights and pretty dresses) could continue, but also a little disappointed that I'd needed that extra reassurance, and spent the extra cash, when I should have just trusted the first sonographer, and of course my husband's, instincts.
There's no denying though, that 'knowing', as distinct from thinking that I know, has helped me to bond with the baby. She's now a she, she might even have a name, although to be honest it changes every couple of days, something which I believe is my right as a hormonally challenged pregnant woman! Of course I'm not insinuating that couples who would like a surprise don't bond with their babies in utero, it's just that this is the right way for us.
So the pink bump continues to grow. T has learnt to say 'sister' and in less happy news, my morning sickness seems to have made an unwelcome, and I hope temporary, return. In around 18 weeks time, I'm going to have a daughter.