One thing I need to address before I confuse any more people: I tend to use feminine pronouns when I talk about our baby -- perhaps I'm simply used to having a girl, I don't know -- but we are not actually going to find out the sex before the baby is born. I don't even have particularly strong "girl" feelings; it's just that I don't like to write he/she or his/her all the time. (That said, I would love another little girl, for a million reasons. However, little boys really love their mamas and they're just awfully sweet. Either way, I win!)
We didn't find out that Suzannah was, in fact, Suzannah, until she was born either. It's funny, because before I actually got pregnant, I figured I'd find out -- partly because I'm very organized and I like to plan things, but also admittedly because a friend insinuated that I would not be able to fully bond with my child unless I could call her (or him?) by name. I gathered that I'd feel no more attached to my pregnancy than I would to a sack of potatoes bumping around underneath my shirt. That could not have been further from the truth, as I felt deeply connected to the little life growing inside me from the beginning, and to be honest, while I loved seeing our baby move and kick and suck her thumb on the ultrasound screen, the ultrasound itself certainly did nothing for our bonding. If anything, it was a barrier. I had always felt that I was learning things about our baby every day, that she was communicating with me on our own special wavelength (call that corny, but there you have it), and suddenly there was a gray TV screen and a stranger telling me things about our child -- suddenly someone else was the expert. I won't call it invasive, exactly, because it was fun and I loved our technician (we'll have the same one this time!) and I'm looking forward to the "big ultrasound" with this baby as well, but I know now not to expect that to make me feel closer to the baby. At least, I know I don't need to rely on it. This is the only time in our child's life in which her (his/her?) sex truly doesn't matter, and our relationship transcends that. I love it. She'll have the rest of her (his? his/her? See how confusing this gets?) to be treated differently.
Anyway, I'm definitely not a paint-the-room-pink kind of person, so from a purely practical standpoint, it doesn't matter at all. In fact, blue is my favorite color. We decorated Suzannah's nursery exactly the way I would have if I'd have known she was a girl. (The new baby will inherit all of that stuff, and now we will add more of a girly touch to Suzannah's room with a girly new bed set, complete with accessories, as a belated third birthday gift. Flowers and butterflies and everything.) I didn't want a pink car seat or stroller, and other than that, clothes are really the only gender-specific items we needed...and I'm pretty confident that we won't have much trouble dressing this baby.
But that's not to say I don't understand why people find out, and I definitely understand the temptation, especially the first time around. I think it must just feel right for some people to know whether they're carrying a girl or a boy. We're certainly not waiting until the birth to prove our superiority as parents or because we feel that people who find out are "cheating." It's not even about the "surprise" for me, as I would imagine you're surprised whether you find out at 20 weeks or at birth. It's just that our baby's birth feels like the right time for us for that beautiful mystery to be revealed. And when I remember that cloudy Sunday morning three years ago when I heard Matt cry, "We have a girl!" I'm not even tempted, because it was the very finest moment of my life.
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