I’ve been holding out on y’all.
You might know that I had an ultrasound last week, and I haven’t publicly announced the baby’s gender yet. We haven’t known ahead of time with any of our living children, so I felt like I had to do something special. I couldn’t just say it. I had to be creative, and funny, and say it in some special way. I didn’t know how I should say it, but I knew it would be anticlimactic to just come out and say it. Right? So I waited, and thought about it.
And waited. And thought.
And waited. And the longer I waited, the more special I knew it had to be, so I had to think even longer – and that meant more waiting.
Tomorrow will be a week since we found out, and I’m just now getting around to telling. And unless you have a better idea, I’m just going to say it.
Do you have a better idea?
Oh – I should mention that I did post an update to an older post in which I announced the baby’s gender. It’s in a very logical place, so you could probably find it if you looked.
But I’ve given up on the idea of being cute or creative. I’m just going to tell the story straight. I’ll tell you about the ultrasound, with everything we learned there as I remember it. We’re hard at work on household improvement projects again this week, but I’ll publish this now and then publish updates as I am able add to the post.
I was plagued by the little voice in the back of my head, whispering about the possibility of twins. The thought of twins wasn’t a plague – I would be thrilled. But the endless wondering was driving me mad. My midwife assured me she saw no real reason to think I might be carrying twins, and I believed her, but still the voice nagged at me.
Suddenly, I realized there might be a way to find out without shelling out the cash for an unnecessary ultrasound. A friend who used to volunteer at a local crisis pregnancy center had told me years ago that she thought they sometimes did scans for non-crisis mothers as a thank-you for donations. I immediately messaged a young lady at our church who had been volunteering at the same center and asked if she knew whether they would do it for me. I told her that my midwife did not suspect twins but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. She called the center to ask on my behalf, and it sounded like a sure thing. They had a new nurse in training who was delighted at the merest chance of scanning twins.
After some initial excitement, I learned that they usually practiced on mothers in their first and very early second trimester. They weren’t entirely convinced that I would be useful for their training. After a few hours of uncertainty, I received a call back. We had an appointment for the following day: Tuesday, July 3. I was ecstatic.
I was still ambivalent about learning the baby’s gender, but I couldn’t wait to have a look at the little person inside me. We talked about different ways to handle the gender question: just learn outright (would we tell everyone? anyone?), have the nurse seal the results in an envelope (how and when would we open it? one at time, secretly, or all at once?), ask them not to tell us but try to spot the gender with our own untrained eyes…
When I arrived, I learned that it was against the center’s policy to tell expecting mothers the gender of their child. Of course we were hardly a typical crisis case since we were there as models, to aid in training. Those rules could be stretched a bit for us, but we did need to be aware of the limitations. The nurse could help us figure out what we were looking at, but she could not write and seal the results in an envelope for us. As it turned out, when Perry was finally admitted his earlier ambivalence had dissipated. He wanted to know, and I was more than happy to follow along – assuming the baby cooperated.