Do you remember why you wanted to be an ultrasound tech? Was it because you wanted to help people? Was it because you wanted to see young women's faces light up when they saw their unborn baby for the first time? Or heck, even if you did it for the money, maybe you could try thinking about all those wonderful things when you wake up to go to work in the morning, instead of being a cranky bee-yotch.
Just because you may not be thrilled that I'm having a baby, maybe you could take a moment to think about the fact that I am. Maybe you could start our 45 minute session with a "hello," or even a "how are you today?" Even if it's not that funny, you could consider laughing at my jokes about how badly I have to pee, because heck, it's a little bit funny to see a pregnant woman waddle down the hall, barely holding her 14 litres of water in. (It's not funny that said pregnant woman was made to wait nearly 45 minutes with her teeth swimming, but we won't get into that.)
You could think about saying "you're welcome" when I thank you profusely for the WARM blue gel stuff that you put on my belly, instead of the normal icy cold version. You might try making a bit of conversation while we sit together in a tiny room for 45 minutes. You could not make me feel afraid to ask questions, or make me feel dumb when I do. You could try smiling once in a while.
I realize that you have a job to do, and you're not there to make friends with me, but please try and consider what this moment of seeing an unborn baby means to a young mother, and try to be a little bit happy about it. I mean heck, if you can't find any joy in a job as cool and potentially wonderful as yours, then maybe it's time to look for another job.
(Try looking on some job sites under "cranky bee-yotch.")
P.S. Not only did I not like you, it was obvious that my baby felt the same way, since all s/he would show you was her ASS, and not the parts that would let us tell what colour fabric I should be shopping for. Maybe that's a hint. (Maybe s/he was farting on you!!)