Modern medicine is a crazy thing. Instead of waiting for the baby to be big enough to play 'Do you see that? It's a boy! I think...' on a sonogram, now a blood test can tell you your baby's chances of having a chromosomal genetic disorder like Down syndrome or Trisomy 13, along with its gender, all by week 12. That's pretty amazing. So, since I'm adopted and my medical history is a little sparse, we decided to find out as much as we could as early as we could.
SO, I find myself on the end of a voicemail that says something like, 'The tests are back. Good news, they look great. We know your baby's gender. Call us back if you want to find out.' Of course I get this voicemail after their office is closed and have to wait a painstaking amount of time for them to open.
Up until this point, I am pretty sure it's a girl. All of the wives tales I've heard seem to be full on girl (they say they steal your beauty--dull hair, break outs, nausea, the works). (Although the spider incident [see last blog post] had me questioning that...) Austin was sticking with boy.
Finally, it is 8AM, and I call and ask for the nurse to stick the results in an envelope. I rush to get them. I rush home. But, my timing is JUST off. Austin is 3 minutes away from a half hour conference call. He is itching for us to just open the envelope, but I am not interested in being on a celebration timer for this news.
In the meantime, I grab a shower (where I have my best ideas) and hatch a plan to make Austin work for this envelope. (Insert maniacal laugh here because I sort of know this is going to stress him out letting the suspense build even more.) (Did I mention I love surprises?!) (Did I mention I'm pregnant, and I get to do what I want?!)
SO, I create this little scavenger hunt (in about 10 minutes, so ignore the terrible handwriting and floral post it notes....)
Pantry. I tried to make this pretty easy for my own anxiety, too.
Go easy on these clues. Remember, 10 minutes prep time.
AND, we eventually are holding the envelope, feeling a little like Steve Harvey at Miss USA at this point. There's a lot of pressure riding on this envelope. We open it...and...
Did I mention I love suspense?
Okay, okay....mercy rule. Our little Bulldawg is going to be a..........
Both of our eyes get realllllllly big when we see 'female' on that little sheet of paper.
Because even though I've really been thinking girl this whole time, we've both always pictured having a boy first. We had the name picked out for a boy, I'd pretty much designed the nursery in my head. Also, I could see Austin taking a mental tally of my closet and multiplying that by 2.
I could also see him calculating how soon it takes for him to cave at the first thought of a tear in my eye and imagining that times 1,000 with a baby girl. Here's me as a kid, and let me tell you, as soon as that bottom lip started trembling, it was game over for my dad.
Then, of course, you have to think about the teen years. Should I start my prayers now?
Please let ankle skirts and turtlenecks be all the rage throughout her high school and college years. May her tattoos be temporary and self driving cars completely indestructible by her 16th year. May the boy who breaks her heart, well, on second thought Lord, I don't think you are the one to handle this. I'm sure her dad will have this covered. May her legs not be of her mother's chicken persuasion and her eyebrows come in a pair. May 'sexting' become as dated a concept as 8 track tapes and may she get in early acceptance with a full ride scholarship to Georgia for her academic prowess.
So it took several hours for the fact that, holy $H*T! We are having a daughter! To fully sink in. And of course it hit me at the most RIDICULOUS moment ever.
I decided to treat myself to a pedicure and the first PSL (That means Pumpkin Spice Latte, mom) of the season since I assume I will never have pocket change again because I will soon be poor from buying adorable baby girl clothes...and those adorable baby moccasins.
I was deeply debating whether it was acceptable to walk into Starbucks in those plastic floppy shoes the nail salon gives you when I decided I had a few minutes to kill. I thought, I know! I'll listen to Carrie Underwood, 'All American Girl.' Because, you know, I'm having a girl!
Bad mistake. I think I got to maybe the first chorus. Maybe. Before I was ugly sobbing alone in my car.
And that's when it hit me for real. We are having a girl. Is there anything more wonderful in the world than a baby girl? The bows and sparkles and tears and butterfly kisses and Barbies and sass and sweet cuddles of a baby girl? It's going to be really great. And expensive. And terrifying. And I can't wait.