Sometimes you just know. Sometimes you don’t. At first, with
Lorelei, when someone asked me, “so do you think it’s a girl or boy?” I would
think “now how in the world would I know that? What a dumb question.” But since
I’m not a social pariah I would respond with “hmm, I don’t know. I can’t tell.”
Eventually, however, I decided that Lorelei was a girl. And clearly, my
prediction was correct. This second pregnancy, I understood how you could "feel" like it was a girl for a boy . I knew much more quickly.
Probably about two months in. The anatomical (gender) ultra sound was merely to
confirm my instincts. Maybe I wasn’t a 100% sure, I guess, because I was dying
to get the anatomical ultrasound that said get ready for girl number 2
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The gender reveal. Haha, |
At our hospital, the doctor has to refer you for this
ultrasound at about your 16 week appointment. I showed up at my 16 week
appointment, with Randy, and found out I wrote down the wrong time and missed
my appointment. I WAS DEVASTATED. I had a court the following week and couldn’t
fathom how to fit in a reschedule AND the receptionist wouldn’t just refer me
to the ultrasound anyway. Luckily, the receptionist was nice and the doctor was
flexible and fit my appointment in the next day.
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The votes were cast. |
While completely unrelated, but yet noteworthy, at 16 weeks I was
much larger this second time around than with pregnancy #1. I would say it was
markedly different. Alarmingly so. I’m
already too big to be able to button my inappropriately high wasted work pants (the
pants on the air battle uniform or ABUs) so I fashioned a rubber band around
the top button hole. I find that the effort to wind and unwind this rubber band
exhausts me so much that I often leave several buttons unattended. AKA, my fly
is open about half of the time. Anyways, this unwinding process really adds to
the procedure of using the restroom and the ABU belt doesn’t really fit me and
it hurts kind of now, so bottom line: I don’t wear the ABU belt. Yes, that
means I am out of regulation. I would counter this with, well, I’m
sure it was intended for me to button my pants all the way up, and since I’m
breaking that implied rule: go big or go home. The point of all this is to
explain that when the doctor (who is a colonel by the way) asked to see my
belly during the 16 week appointment, I tried to make light of my uniform discrepancy
when I joked, “well let me undo my belt”
and unwound my rubber band. The doctor, didn’t respond for about two minutes
and then totally deadpanned, said, “oh you’re joking you’re not wearing a belt.”
The air was thick with the awkwardness of my failed joke. Epic fail. On both
our parts.
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Lorelei can't handle the suspense |
We moved past this moment and he referred me for my ultra
sound. The doctor informed me that we could go between 18-20 weeks. I was
pumped. That meant the week after my court I could tell the world we were
having our second little princess. I raced right over to the radiology clinic.
I told the tech working the desk that I would like to schedule my 18 week
anatomical ultrasound. He told me they prefer to do it at 20. I countered with thanks, but I’ll do 18. He
left apparently to get the meaner tech, because he returned with a woman who
told me “ma’am, this is my job here and I only do this ultrasound at 20 weeks
because that’s a better time to determine gender.” I responded with “well if
you can only do 20 weeks than fine,” with every intention of tattling on her
the second I left that place in case she was making it up (which was a trend I had
recognized at this point). She said, “well we can do it at 18, but its better
at 20 . . . and honestly she said more stuff but all I heard was “we can do it
at 18.” I replied accordingly with, thanks I’ll do it at 18.
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Waiting on the verdict |
So 18 weeks rolls around and I planned a gender reveal at
work because 1) I like the pictures so that I may show you all and 2) because it’s
funny to make military members in uniform hold pastel balloons. BUT I was
really afraid that the tech would purposefully not see the gender so as to “told
me so.” This would be a huge bummer because the gender reveal was the very next morning. I had thus created a plan in the event the tech attempted sabotage. I prepared Randy for a
rocky and awkward road ahead if the tech couldn’t see this baby’s lady/man
parts. Randy seemed to have already prepped, because he responded, “yah Jamie, I
think I know how to handle your awkward moments by now.” Sweet. We were on the
same page. So here was the plan. Mean tech says, “oh dang, we don’t see it. Hmm
guess we should have seen you at 20 weeks.”
Meaner pregnant lady (me) says, “ok, well please take a 100 pictures so
that I can show my mom and her colleagues. They want to determine the gender of
our child if you can’t.” I was hoping that this would encourage her to try
harder. I mean, I had a party planned the next morning. Time was of the
essence.
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Lorelei wasn't willing to commit |
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What a profile |
The tech who actually did our anatomical appointment was a
different lady and a real sweetheart, meaning she laughed at all my jokes. She
told us about the baby’s limbs, heart, and brain. And then she got to the
reveal. She swiped over the legs and she could tell right away. And wouldn’t you know it, it was a boy. Wait
boy? OMG we’re having a boy! I had convinced Randy and myself it was a girl. We
were both stunned. I decided to use that momentum. I said, “oh no, Randy, we
have to get all new clothes, we have nothing for boys.” He responded, “yah,
sure.” I added, “oh no, Randy, we need all to accessories, we have nothing for
boys.” He replied, “yah, sure.” I finished with, “oh no, Randy, we need new
nursery stuff, we have nothing for boys. He maintained, “yah, sure.” All of which I consider cart blanche to just
go shopping nuts. I exploited this
moment for sure. Sucker.
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Lorelei is thrilled. It is not just the bacon in her hand. |
But seriously. We are so thrilled to have a little boy, not
just because I can ravage the baby stores again, but because it is such a
blessing. I’m still wrapping my head around it truly, but the more we say boy,
the more excited we get. Oh boy!
And because everything is a photo opportunity....
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Just soooo Excited |
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Off to celebrate |
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Finally |