Thursday, July 11, 2013

You Are A Very Beautiful: Gender?

Well, slap my face and call me that girl with the worst instincts in the world, because we are having a...


Yep, the Ultrasound tech checked for us and confirmed that 'he' had, what she calls, a 'little turtle'. And not - what she calls - 'power lines'. I also had three great witnesses in the room to prove it, although not one of us can actually see the 'thing' even now, we're just trusting. Ultrasound techs are weirdos with their weirdo vision. Both of my moms, not to be confused with the hit TV show 'My Two Dads' (because I know you confused it), were there and so was my pretty much adorable, wubby-wubby hubby, whom I'm suddenly really excited is going to be a boy dad. Sure, to finally have a girl in our families would have been cool, considering there has been an estrogen drought for years on Toms side. But no, like Victoria and David Beckham, we are trying to assemble a team of male soccer players in our family - a HOT and stylish team. I have already signed the kid up for underwear ads that will run all over Times Square. If you think we're against exploitation you're wrong. In fact, I've actually already patented the phrase "boyploitation" to really get people amped. Also, since finding out the little squirt is a boy, I have used the word 'amped' in and out of every context all day long. Kismet.

For those of you that thought this little boy was a girl, you are not alone. I tallied and at least 90% of everyone who guessed on the gender said it was a girl. Some were so sure that they actually put their reputation as a gender guesser on the line. Every test, every pre-indicator, almost every person, said this was going to be a girl. The gender wives tales said girl. My own instinct have said since day ONE and for the past 2 months that it was going to be a girl. Our Doctor said the ridiculously fast heartbeat would seem to indicate a girl. My sister in-law, having JUST come out of surgery for her c-section, opened her eyes, looked at me and said, "You're having a girl." That seemed eeriy legit. The Ring on a String test said girl, the Baking Soda test said girl, the SEERINGLY ACCURATE Chinese Lunar Calendar said girl. I will never trust myself or any human being again, just the ultrasound techs I guess. I don't even believe the world is round anymore, and I definitely don't believe in Stonehenge. What I do believe in? Surprises.

This is my nephew Beckett who is indicating that he knew all along. What a little...

Reflections on 17/18 weeks pregnant--

I have been working out pretty regularly during gestation. It doesn't show at all, but I suppose that's how God intended. He seems to intend a lot of 'wonderful' things for women. Everything is getting bigger no matter what, you're just working to be "strong". That really chafes. Figuratively and literally.

It's akin to taking vitamins because they'll "help you live longer" but in the meantime you're just your normal self everyday, with very little to no visible or physical improvements. Life seems so long, and remembering a vitamin everyday is hard when I feel just fine RIGHT NOW. I think I've just revealed too much about myself.

I suppose there is a greater lesson here about enduring til the end and faith, and making important, lasting changes in your life. I've never been good at those. Isn't marriage and a baby a lasting change enough? This whole setup has been one massive leap of faith. But this isn't Sunday school, this is my blog. If you were here because you thought it was Sunday School, it's OK, could have happened to anyone.

Last week, on our nations Independence Day, I found myself dependent on my husband and sister in-law to lift me up from a reclined position on a couch. I have already, at around 18 weeks, with regular exercise, found that I have not an ounce of core strength anymore. I am ok everywhere else, just don't ask me to lift myself. As a result I had a dream last night that I was 9 months pregnant and laid on my back on the floor and was physically unable to get up.... while Tom was on a business trip. The terrifying part was how probable that dream felt. I woke up in a cold sweat and immediately tried to see if I could still lift myself. I'm proud to report I could. It could have been a 3 act short film.

The 4th was really great, and it was the first day of this pregnancy that I was able to eat like a...pregnant woman? My appetite has been strange. My mom made her 'famous potato salad' and it took everything in me not to keep every last bite from anyone else's mouth. That morning? The best community breakfast ever up at Liberty park in Ogden Canyon. I ate about 4 helpings of biscuits and gravy -- another one of my food cryptonites. Curses.

This week's aversions: PIE! A tear was shed over that one.

Speaking of pie. This picture...

This week's craving: A Monte Cristo sandwich. We don't live next to Disneyland anymore so that craving seemed impossible. Found a Pub in West Valley to fulfill the HECK out of that one. Silver bullet! Tom said it couldn't be done. It was done. And it was done plum good. I felt the baby thank me. I said outloud, "Stick with me kid, I'm like a food rainmaker."

Don't I look like one? 18 and half weeks playas!

Something I couldn't rainmake? The Varsity chili dog and onion rings from none other than (believe me, none other than) the great state of Georgia. That particular craving, at 2am, had me cry myself to sleep. Tom told me to hum my favorite hymn (not really, but it almost came to that).

I redeemed myself with the Monte Cristo though. Tom better catch up, or this kid is destined to worship me. Oh what's that? The little guy just told me, "Too late." What a little suck-up.