Scantastic

I think this will be the most scanned baby in the long and illustrious history of maternity. On 14th September, we're going for our twelve week scan. It will be our fourth. Fancy that.

All is well - the mysterious area of blood is still lurking ominously (you used to get fined £1.50 for that in McDonalds), but we are assured that it is no real threat. Baby him/herself is progressing nicely. At scan number one it was dwarfed by its own yolk sack, which I'm sure you'll understand can be quite embarrassing. By scan number two it was winning the battle with the yolk sack, and had advanced to an impressive 8mm.

Now, we laugh at scan number two's pathetic 8mm. My wife is now incubating an 18mm monster, whose heart was easily discernible, pumping away at 160bpm or something. It's not actually a monster. More of a broad bean really. Which is considerably more baby shaped than the blueberry of which we were previously the proud parents to be.

All this scanning raises an interesting question. If talking to a pregnant belly familiarises baby with the comforting, nurturing tones of a parent's voice, then is our unprecedentedly well documented broad bean destined for a life of vain camera hogging? Have we unwittingly produced an attention seeker? I hope not.

I intended to add a picture of our latest scan to this. This hasn't happened yet because, quite ironically, we need to scan it in first, and I can't be bothered. But I will.