the sonogram

Enrique and I went together to get his sonogram at Davies Medical Center. The technician was a sweet and sour queen who told me I could stay in the room with Enrique, "If you don't ask any questions."

"You can go fuck yourself!" I thought, but I kept my mouth shut.

I held Enrique's hand while the technician put the gel on Enrique's neck and passed the wand over his neck again and again. He took what seemed like dozens of images and was constantly typing into the computer.

Afterwards we looked at the images of the sonogram on the computer screen. The technician wouldn't tell us anything about them. They were grainy and blurry like the images of a feotus.

Enrique joked, "It's a boy!"