Who Am I?

The title of this post reminds me of the Children's Encyclopedia that dad used to read when he was a kid, in which every volume featured a "Who Am I?" article -- or wait, was that "Where Am I?" Crud. He can't remember.

Anyhow that's all besides the point. Mom's OB appointment on Dec. 1 came and went, and do you think she remembered to ask the physician the one most important question on her mind? Of course not. Pregnancy seems not only to allegedly affect tooth composition, but seems also to have obvious effects on mental capacity. End result -- my gender remains a mystery, not only to everyone else, but to myself, too. ROAR.

To make matters worse, it seems I may be subject to the rigors of labor. Woe Is Me. Here I was expecting a nice, big incision to be opened for me at a scheduled time and place, and now instead I'm going to be jammed out head first down that cramped tunnel they call the birth canal. Not all hope is lost though -- mom has been offered the option of a "natural" delivery, but may opt for the C-section anyway if, ultimately, she feels the risk of complications during delivery (uterine rupture, for one) are too great. I dunno -- I just don't want a cone head!