My big ultrasound is this Friday (or maybe Thursday). We’ll be able to tell if it’s a boy or a girl. But I’m hoping to have baby number four be surprise number one. What do you think? We packed all our baby girl and boy clothes, so it really doesn’t matter one single bit to me which we have. Okay - my obsession with fair does make me tend to want a girl, plus Maddie really, really, really wants a sister and I think everyone ought to have a sister. Other than that though it doesn’t matter and thus far the boys have been loads easier to figure out than our little girl so maybe, just maybe all boys are easier than girls.
When we were having Ben, we decided to have a surprise. We discussed. We decided. We were totally on the same page. Plus, I hated the color pink and it would prevent a Pepto Bismol colored baby shower with pink, pink, pink gifts everywhere to be seen. We show up at the ultrasound and I’m laying on the table when the tech asks, “Do you want to know the sex?” And in that instant I changed my mind. I HAD TO FIND OUT. This lady knew the answer and I needed to PLAN!! Of course we (I) want to know. I am fairly sure that when I looked at poor Brian sitting in the chair beside me I shot evil, fire daggers out of my eyes at him threatening him to even dare to go against me. He just said, “Okay.” When they said it was a boy, we were both excited. It’s what we had both wanted to start off with.
With Maddie we decided it would be nice to know if we needed to get anything different for clothes than what I had stowed away in bins of Ben’s old clothes. We thought it would be cool to have a girl so the pressure would be off if it was a girl and we chose to have any more then it wouldn’t matter. We both wanted to know this time. They told us it was a girl. We left the holding hands but were both pretty quiet. Brian was driving out of the parking lot when I finally couldn’t take it anymore, “Are you disappointed too?” “Yep.” “Okay. I was feeling bad about being sad it was a girl.” In my head I was thinking, “What are we going to do with a girl? I’m not fancy or pretty. I don’t even wear makeup. How will I raise a GIRL?? And what if she is artsy and likes pink and lace and dolls, not building with blocks and trains and science and math? I can’t do GIRLS!” We talked again the next day or maybe two days later and all our stupid fears about having a girl were gone. We were both REALLY excited to have a beautiful little girl.
Jacob was supposed to be my first surprise baby. The big ultrasound comes at 20 weeks and it’s supposed to be hard to tell before that, right? I had a regular appointment at about 15, maybe 16 weeks. My doctor was a fun older guy and did a quick ultrasound every visit in the beginning just because he had the machine in the room. So without Brian there he asks, “Do you want to know the sex?” “Isn’t it too early to tell?” “Yeah, usually it is, but I think it’s fun to take a look and guess, then see if I’m right, either next month or when the baby is born.” Thinking it sounded fun and like it would be a totally shot in the dark guess, I agreed. My answer came faster than I had expected, “Well, usually it’s a guess at this stage in pregnancy, but this baby is DEFINITELY a boy. Not shy AT ALL.” My first thought was, “OOPS!! Brian was supposed to be here for this! Stupid, stupid me! Why can’t I resist the temptation to know!?!? Dang it. Do I say nothing and act surprised? No. I can’t keep my own secret that long, besides, that’s wrong to not tell him.” Probing for more info and assurances of exactly how sure he was I came out with a 90-95% chance it was a boy. So I called Brian when I got home from the appointment, apologized and announced it was a boy. We double checked at the 20 week and sure enough. Jacob was still a boy.
Right now my resolve is strong. Very strong. This baby is a surprise. I totally realize it’s a surprise either way, we find out the surprise on November 4th or March 6th. Maddie is disappointed that I’m planning to wait. So is Ben. Jacob doesn’t care. He already knows it’s going to be a doggie and he’s even getting really sweet and likes to hug and kiss the “fluffy yittle doggie” in my tummy which melts my heart. Check back next week and see if more fire daggers shoot out of my eyes this week at poor Brian as I cave under pressure of the chance to find out. I think I can do it this time. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.