I shouldn’t care so much if we have a boy or a girl, but I do. I really, really, really want a daughter.
But recently I was feeling genuinely fine with another son. I mean eventually I will be fine with whoever this baby is. Thrilled, in fact. I won’t wish it was any other way. I know this. But I want to experience a girl baby. I want to put her in brown and blue striped tights. I already had my pigtails fix with LM. And he, like Bri mentioned recently, does play with ninjas and firemen by strolling them around in a pink baby buggy.
Anyway, I recently made some peace with having another boy. It feels even. Like both of us giving birth to a son feels right somehow. And a little brother for LM? Fucking adorable. But then I went into Baby G@p, and there was a knit stripy dress, with long sleeves and a hood and I lost all reason.
I WANT A GIRL.
You know another super good reason (aside from tights and brown corduroy dresses) this should be a girl?
THEN WE CAN BE DONE. Complete. One girl, one boy, and we will never, ever, EVER, have to go through trying to have a baby ever again. I know that is not a guarantee, but I wonder if two boys would leave the door open to try again. Rocket Man is really the one responsible for the gender thing. We’ll just blame him. Or maybe he’ll swap us one of his girls. His track record including all their disasters and ours is…wait this will take a minute to calculate…is three girls, two boys and two “we don’t knows”. Dude. That man has some busy sperm. Total pregnancies he had participated? Eight. HAH!
The ultrasound is in 8 days. EIGHT DAYS. I might need a ticker here soon. Yes indeed. It has been a while since I felt chipper enough for a ticker. I believe I am.
I think about the upcoming ultrasound multiple times every day. Maybe even once an hour. I even called S the other day at work just to make triple sure she couldn’t tell me the gender. She reminded me, again, that no she couldn’t. S was typing while on the phone with me and I said “Are you looking it up?” It feels baffling to both of us that we can’t just Goog.le it.
Much to her irritation I ask her questions like this at least 3 times a day: is it a boy or a girl? why can’t you just know? S, what do you think it is? Poor woman. She wants a girl too. But as I’m typing this, I’m thinking wouldn’t it be great to have another boy? Yes.
What do all of you think? Why can’t you just look it up for me? Were you nauseated until 16 weeks with a boy? TELL ME. I can’t stand it. The suspense is killing me.
What a lovely and luxurious thing obsess about.