In case you live under a rock (or maybe are just following my blog, and not my personal Facebook page) the secret is out!
As “Auntie Laura” put it so appropriately last night, “Congratulations! You are soon to be outnumbered with three stinky boys in the house!” The real question is, which one will smell the worst?! The husband, the dog, or Baby Seags?
Before I go on to talk about all the fun we had yesterday (in fact, that might be tomorrow’s blog… I’m on vacation so I’ve got time to be creative in the sun!), I have to go back to that first moment we knew it was a baby boy. I’m sure the interest level of anyone else reading this is not as high as my desire to write about it, but as this blog has subsequently turned into my own sort of “journal keeping,” I feel it pertinent to annotate. So back to January 27th, 2018….
I’ll never forget we took two separate cars that morning. Of course, I got to Peek-a-Boo with more than enough time to spare, and Joe walked in right on time. His face was pale, and he looked like he was going to throw up. (I’d later learn that that was exactly how he was feeling. But he kept it down! Points for my Joey!). While I know Joe ultimately would love a girl just as much as a boy, he made it very clear to me that having a girl made him nervous. Too much “additional” to worry about. Having grown up a male, only-child without any sisters (or cousins he was regularly around for that matter – boy OR girl) I can understand how the concept of “girl” would be a bit foreign for him. I mean, his only real “girl” experience (aside from his mother and aunt) is me! And I drive him nuts on a daily basis! What did I want? I was the epitome of “Either is fine.” Not, “I don’t care.” Sometimes I’ve heard women say that, and I cannot understand that mindset. I certainly had cares in regards to the matter. Many of them, in fact. And while I laid on that bed for those 5-7 minutes as the tech searched for visible signs of “boy” or “girl,” and Joe sat on couch next to me (HEAD DOWN or IN HIS HANDS) my thoughts went something like this:
- I want a baby. A healthy baby. And I don’t care if it’s a boy, girl, or elephant (okay maybe not elephant, but you know what I mean. When you’ve been trying for so long… ugh…).
- I want a boy because I’ve always had a soft spot for the little men in my room. Love the girls too, don’t get me wrong, but those (sometimes) naughty, wild, little boys…
- I want a girl because my brother and sister-in-law are having a boy, and all we ever seem to do is follow in their tread (they get married, we get married, they buy a house, we buy a house, we get pregnant… (miscarraige)… they get pregnant, it’s a boy!…. we get pregnant… of course it would just HAVE to be a boy!)
- I want a boy because brother and sister-in-law are having a boy and those two little men could be best buds growing up in only the way “two boys” could.
- I want a girl because, even though Joe is terrified of them, I want to see him fall head over heals in love with a daughter. It’s not that he’s a “hard” personality or anything, but nothing softens up a man like lovin’ on his baby girl.
- I want a boy for Joe, because I know he would prefer to “ease into parenting” with a boy first.
- I want a girl because of the outfits. Nothing cuter than a little girl with bows in her hair and all of those adorable dresses. And for a future shopping/spa buddy.
** I know I’m being competitive/stereotypical/etc in a lot of these “cares,” but I’m not a perfect person, and I don’t claim to be. This is my blog, dang it! And I’m tellin’ it like I think it!**
I could really keep typing… but ultimately the point is, I personally would be over the moon happy with either option. But as my pale-faced, about-to-throw-up-husband sat next to me over those 5-7 minutes, all I began to think of/pray was “Oh dear Lord, please, PLEASE be a boy.”
Then I saw it on the screen. Or what I was pretty sure was “it.” My thoughts were immediately confirmed when the tech followed one second later with, “So do you guys have a preference?”
Now, maybe I’m crazy, but this tech knew we were first time parents-to-be. She also had a clear view of Joe, seconds from hyperventilating, on the couch next to me over the last 5-7 minutes. To this day, I believe she only asked that question because she KNEW Joe wanted a boy, and she now KNEW it was a boy.
And I knew too. I saw it.
So I played along, “Either would be fine for me. I know Joe would prefer for it to be a boy. And it is a boy, isn’t it?”
She smiled, and hovered the probe over “the spot” once more.
“It’s a boy!”
My husband did not throw up! But he did look at the screen for the remaining 30+ minutes of our session. And the color slowly began to come back to his face.
As an open, IVF, mama-to-be, it has been quite enjoyable to have this little “secret” over the last month+. I’m not ashamed of the way we made this baby, and I’m equally glad that I have been so open with our process along the way. However, there is a sort of sadness/loss when you are so open. Nothing like the loss of “infertility.” But the whole not being able to “Surprise your parents that they will be grandparents” loss, (etc) is hard. Not really doable, even, especially when you need to have your mom give you a giant shot in the rear two nights a week (for a total of 14+ weeks!) because your husband has class and cannot do it each night. You can’t go through IVF alone. At least I couldn’t. So it was worth it to be open.
So gender was our “secret.” And I need to say thank-you to everyone who played along (My husband included…we took a LOT of pictures at the Magic Kingdom yesterday and spent $12 on a stupid blue balloon that we gave away to a little boy once “through” with it). To tnose who stopped me at work and said, “Oh, I think it’s a boy” or “I heard you say “she” today“). To everyone that played along on Facebook yesterday when I asked, “Blue or Pink, what do you think?” Thank-you. The large number of texts, messages, (heck!) even the LIKES yesterday we received… just made the process feel normal. Made me feel like we “made it” to the point of normalcy. I know we have 20 weeks and 2 days to go before July 23rd, but regardless. I’m pregnant, happy, and humbled.
Strength for today.