It's like Christmas when I was 5, and my birthday when I was 16.
Don't tell my husband, but as of right now, today is outshining our wedding day.
Because today? Today we find out Baby's gender.
And, honestly, I'm freaking out.
You see, I'm normally a rational woman, which means I could care less what this little being is God gave us, as long as he/she is healthy and moderately happy and amenable enough to be subjected to hours and hours of mommy-and-me exercises.
I actually told a friend of mine I'd be happy and disappointed no matter what they told me; happy it's a boy and sad it's not a girl, or happy it's a girl and sad it's not a boy.
There's beauty in both, you see.
And, truthfully, I want both. I like both. And while I prefer babies and toddlers as girls - in my experience, they are the easier gender in the younger years - I shrink back in fear at the thought of teenage girls; as a former high-school teacher, I find boys way easier to handle during adolescence.
Plus, I know the second that baby's here with us, I won't be able to imagine our family any other way; girl first or boy first, this child was meant to be ours, and there will be no looking back once he/she's in my arms.
So there you have it. The rational, responsible adult in me doesn't care one lick what they tell me today. I'm gonna love this little one no matter what.
And then, there's the irrational, hormonal pregnant woman inside of me. Who, currently, is raging to get out.
You see, my husband? He wants a girl.
Desperately and wholeheartedly admits he wants a baby girl to be his first-born.
I want that for him. Real, real bad.
And my mother? She had a dream the day before I told her I was pregnant. In her dream, I was pregnant. With a baby girl.
My mother is 100-percent sure this little one is a girl. And she's always right about these things.
Not to mention that three of my closest friends, on the very same day awhile back, totally out of the blue, all called me within two hours of each other just to tell me they thought it was a girl.
As one friend said on my voice-mail, "Just letting you know that I've finally made up my mind. You're having a girl. I know it. Talk to you later!"
All my clients? Male and female? They think I'm having a girl.
My boss thinks I'm having a girl.
Heck, even the woman at the bank told me I'm having a girl.
And, more importantly, if I had to guess, I'd say I'm having a girl.
Mostly because, for my entire life, I've imagined having a little girl first.
I pictured myself holding her and dressing her and nursing her and loving her. Ever since I knew I wanted to be a mama - way before I'd even met my husband - I thought my first-born would be a girl.
And ever since this baby was conceived, I've inadvertently said "she." I've mapped out a girl's nursery in my head. I've gazed longingly at tutus and tights in the baby section as I walked by at Target. I threw up day in and day out, confirming that old wive's tale that girls make you sicker in utero.
I've just always leaned toward girl. (Don't ask me what I'm gonna do with the nursery if it's a boy. Because right now, I have absolutely no clue.)
Still, I don't trust myself. I mean, I'm not a mother yet. Is all that imagining and picturing and planning actually "mother's intuition?" What does "mother's intuition" even feel like? And how do we know it's always, 100-percent right?
I have tons of friends who believe in it. People who swear, "I knew it. I just knew she was going to be a girl."
Or those that said, "From the day I knew I was pregnant, I knew it would be a boy, and sure enough, there he was on the ultrasound."
But how? I wonder. How can you tell for sure?
After all, there are women who are wrong. Women who'd have bet their life-savings on their hunch, swear on their hunch, and then were dead-as-doornail wrongwrongwrong.
Me? I don't like to be wrong. I hate it, in fact.
Furthermore, I don't want to get my heart set on a little boy or little girl, hear the opposite today, and then experience let-down.
This is not Jeopardy; this is a precious life, boy or girl.
So all those girl hunches, all those girl-y feelings? I'm afraid of them.
I sit here writing this, and (s)he is currently punching me, and I wonder, "Are you trying to tell me something? Are you ticked off that your mama thinks you might be a girl when you're clearly all boy?"
I mean, I have these kind of psycho-thoughts.
So, yeah, I'm afraid of my supposed "mother's intuition." What does my heretofore untested gut instinct know, anyways?
It is in these situations that I rely on my friends, my family, my husband - who still won't venture a guess, by the way. I want to know what they think.
But, unfortunately, not every sign points to a baby girl in those circles, either.
One friend, one of my aunts, and my mother-in-law all swear it's a baby boy. My mother-in-law's the scary one, as she's rarely wrong about these things.
And then, just last night, I had a crazy dream that the ultrasound technician told us it was a girl, but was, in fact, wrong, and later intimated that it was actually a boy, though she refused to "confirm or deny that because she might be sued."
I awoke very confused.
Plus, I'm surrounded by friends with boys. Honest to goodness, save my sister-in-law, everyone I'm close to has sons.
Baby boys outnumber baby girls at a 10:1 ratio in my friend/family circle.
Perhaps it's catching?
And let's not forget the fact that I myself am a first-born girl. So beginner's psychology alone alludes to the fact I, of course, imagine my first-born as a girl, too, simply because that was the family structure I grew up in.
It's not mother's intuition; it's simple classic conditioning.
Sheesh. It's exhausting, just weighing all the possibilities.
Especially when, honest to goodness, all I want to do is know. Know what he/she is. Know whether I need to start sewing curtains in blue seersucker or pink floral. Know whether we get to raise a little E or a little L. Know who I'm talking to when I sing to him/her in the shower. Know who my husband is tickling when he's trying to get him/her to move for him. Know whether I can, in fact, trust my mother's intuition, or whether I should realize I've never been in control of this whole thing, anyway.
Oh, today's a big, big day.
And, I guess the good news is, no matter what gender they yell at me come 4 p.m., nothing can change that.
We're having a baby. That's the important part.
***
Luckily, we have names picked out for both genders. And everything I currently own, baby-wise, is remarkably gender neutral.So, no matter what they tell me today, I'm ready and willing to embrace the challenge of raising that gender.
Plus, this will be our first glimpse at Baby, and I am totally stoked to see the little one making popcorn-like movements in my tummy.
So tune back in tomorrow! I promise not to keep you waiting long, though I'll probably remain remarkably silent (for me, anyways) on Twitter tonight, so as not to let the secret slip out too soon!
(Oh, and enter your guesses in the comments below. I may not trust my own mother's intuition, but I sure the heck trust blogger's intuition!)
Happy Tuesday, everyone!
