Isaiah Factora Borchers

“This is the brain.”

“Here’s the spine.”

“Right here is a hand.”

“Your baby’s face profile…”

Then the ultrasound techie asked, “Do you want to know the baby’s sex?”


“You are having a boy! Definitely, for sure. Right here, [points] that’s a boy part.”

For the next 10 minutes or so, we get all happy and mushy and watched different angles of our son.

After some quiet time the nurse exclaims, “This baby’s got HUGE feet!”

I couldn’t believe what she said, “What?!”

She points again, “See this? This foot is the same length AS THE BABY’S THIGH!”

I start giggling. Uncontrollably.

The nurse asks, “So who’s responsible for this baby’s big feet?”

I reply over Nick’s laughter, “Definitely the father.”

Nick’s astronaut white shoes, size 13, seem to be glowing in the dark.

The nurse smiles, “If this kid had an Indian name it would be ‘the baby with huge feet.'”

Nick and I are just laughing our butts off as she shows us a close up of Isaiah’s foot.

We finish up and I’m wiping my tears of joy and giggling over this kid’s feet.

The nurse places a towel over my belly and says, “We’re done here. You’ve got a boy on the way. With huge feet.” She glances down at my feet in flip flops and makes one last comment, “Yeah, for sure. This baby definitely did not inherit your feet.”