The following paragraphs document one family's encounters with ultrasound imaging during a pregnancy with a terminal prenatal diagnosis, which is carried to term. From summer, through autumn to winter, the author reflects upon her impressions of her growing baby as his cross-section becomes so familiar on the ultrasound screen that he seems almost unfamiliar when he is born, alive and palpably three-dimensional. This poetic text acknowledges the compassion of the sonographers who guided her through these impressions, describes her young son’s understanding of ultrasound through play, and considers the place of sight, touch, outline and image in the sleepy post-partum synchrony of mother and baby.