It's a BOY!

There are some moments in life that you can never quite prepare for, no matter how hard you try. You know what I mean? You can go over it in your head a thousand times, think you know exactly how you’ll act and feel, and run through every scenario. But you still are in NO way prepared for when it really happens. I felt this way when I got engaged. Again on the day of my wedding. Again on the day we found out we were expecting. And now, again, on the day we found out we are having a BOY! 

I have never, and will never be, one of those women that can wait for it to be a surprise. I don’t mean this only in regards to baby gender. I mean this in life. I am a bouncy five year old squealy girl when I think there is ANY chance something exciting is coming my way. I am ready to dive in head first and be ALL the things, feel ALL the feels! So make no mistake, I have been biting my nails on the edge of my seat wanting to know if I’m having a boy or a girl from the day I peed on a stick y’all. I applaud those women out there who have the strength and sense to let it be a true surprise. Good for y’all. Have a cookie. I ain’t got time.

We found out months ago that my anatomy ultrasound was scheduled for November 10, 2015. I get an unusual amount of ultrasounds due to my risks, but most of them are the more grainy types done on the portable machines. I’ve only had 3-4 regular ultrasounds on the fancy machines in the main office. So I haven’t even had a sneak peek, or a hint. I have had my dreams though, and anyone who knows me knows that I rely on dreams to tell me everything. I had numerous dreams it was a girl! But…I also had several dreams it was a boy. Fickle little pregnancy brain! Andrew kept having dreams that it was a baby, but there was no indication at all what the gender was. However, in all of his dreams, the little newborn could talk just like a grown adult and wouldn’t shut up. Naturally, he attributed this trait to me so he concluded it was a girl as well.

Also, anyone who is familiar with my family knows my parents have all daughters, four of us in total. And? They have SIX grandsons. All of their daughters had BOYS! The youngest of which is almost 13 years old, so it has been a looooong time. And surely the baby of the family was going to have a girl and break the streak.

And let’s talk names. I’ve been picking out baby names since I was 2 years old. Okay, 20. But still. I had a huge list of girl’s names, and I was fairly certain I was safe, so I didn’t focus much on the boy names, coming up with only a few, mostly to make my lists look a little closer to even.

And finally, the night before the big day, we decided to test out some old wive’s tales. We took my wedding ring and tied it to a string and held it over my belly. Three times, twice with him holding it and once with me holding it, it went in a huge circle, indicating a girl.

SO. Heading in to this ultra sound yesterday, both Andrew and I had no question at all in our minds that we were having a girl. We just knew that was the result, so we were totally ready.

I’m lying on the table, and the ultrasound tech is shoving the wand in my belly at full force (which can we all agree to stop saying ultrasounds are painless? I mean, I don’t want to DIE during one, but I certainly don’t LOVE having a stick shoved in my belly and up my bladder for 30 minutes straight, so let’s be real, yo, so future prego momma’s know what. Is. UP.)

So I’m lying on the table being prodded like an alien, and she is flying through all the steps. The baby was being quite cooperative and she was able to check on all four chambers of the heart (A+), all of its little limbs and bones (A+), its little spine (A+, side bar: definitely a small dinosaur in my belly, glad we got that ALL clear!), and the next thing we knew she was ready for gender. She asked our final guess, we both said “GIRL!”, and she moved the wand/beating stick and said, “NOW what do you think it is?”

We both looked blindly at the screen. Again, can we ALL agree that reading an ultrasound screen is the equivalent to attempting to read the periodic table of elements whilst at the bottom of the ocean? Wearing sunglasses. I mean, it’s all well and good that the nurses and doctors understand them, but unless I literally see hand waving at me, I have NO idea what I am looking at. Hell, ten minutes ago I thought I was having a dinosaur.  (Or as my sweet momma would later exclaim when we showed her the ultrasound photo: “Where is its little ding-a-ling?!?”)

So we both looked at her, and a little more weakly said, “Err…girl?? Baby…?” She laughed, and pointed to what she informed us was a leg. Then she pointed to what she informed us was a second leg. THEN she pointed to this little stick coming out between the two legs, and slowly on the screen she typed, “B….O….Y”.

In my pregnant haze, I didn’t even take it in. I just sat there trying to drum up another guess such as “Dog!” or “Tiny human!” or “It has legs for $300 Alex!”. Meanwhile, I look over, and I see Andrew, who two seconds before had matched my face of uselessness, and had been smiling dumbly trying not to look like we didn’t have the sense to understand the pictures. But now, I look at him and his entire face has crumbled into a tiny, smushy little ball. He is bawling, his eyes full of tears, but lit up in a way I have never seen. It was then that I got it.

I looked back at the tech and said, “It’s a BOY?! A BOY?! We’re having a BOY?!” and she laughed and confirmed. Andrew was holding my hand, and he was squeezing it with the strength of a thousand men. I then began to cry. A BOY!? Yes, momma. You’re having a baby boy.

SEVEN grandsons?!

Yep. A boy.

We both cried from that point until the end of the ultrasound, which wasn’t too far away. She then left us alone for a moment. She was missing a couple pictures of the brain because he kept covering his head with his hands, and she wanted to check with the doctor to make sure that what she was enough until my follow-up ultrasound in 4 weeks.

When we were finally alone, I truly looked at my husband. He was the proudest, tallest, strongest, happiest, everything-est I have EVER seen him be. He was bawling, crying so hard he couldn’t see, but smiling so big he would challenge even a chipmunk with those cheeks. He is having a son. I am having a son. I am….a BOY?!?!!? We kept repeating it over and over until it began to sink in.

We were in the doctor’s office for a couple more hours after that, so we had some time to let it sink in a little. Every few minutes one of us would say, “A BOY?!” and then we’d retreat back into awed silence.  

Every though on earth began to fly through my head.

We’re having a boy. Will it pee on me?! Ask daddy what that thing is baby boy. It’s going to think farts are funny. Don’t ride the dog!!! Oh lord, we’re never going to keep enough food in the house when he’s 15. He’s going to play with BUGS!!!

I’m giving him a son. I’m getting a son. He’s going to be so handsome. He’s going to look like his daddy. Oh my god I am SO in love with him already, completely head over heels, and he isn’t even here yet. He’ll play sports. Or play guitar. Or be in a band. Or THE band! Oh, he’ll be so smart. Momma loves her little boy. Dirty and stinky is funny sometimes. Oh the hugs…the hugs of a little boy wrapping his arms around his momma. He’ll look SO handsome in his tux for prom! He’s going to sit on the couch in his underwear with Daddy and consider Cheetos to be a “good dinner”.

But mostly, overwhelmingly more than ANYthing, I sat there and held Andrew’s hand and thought, “He’s a piece of us.” He’s his daddy, his mommy, and he is himself. I am so very in love, that I could never put into words how this has changed me forever.

I did have a moment where I “mourned” the loss of the “girl”. I gave up the frilly clothes and hair bows and Disney princesses and all the things I had thought I wanted. But it was only for a moment. Because I am already so in love and SO READY to meet my little guy that I can’t imagine loving anyone any more than this.

And who knows, if I manage to survive this pregnancy with flying colors (or at least one color, laying on the ground, and a few ounces of dignity…) then perhaps a little brother or sister will be in the cards in the next year or two. But if not, I’m okay with that, too. I’m just simply fine.

My little, perfect family makes me happier than anything I have ever felt in my entire life. Pee on me if you want little fella. Momma will get a wash cloth. I love you!