Daddy's Day Part 2

Shan is pregnant with our second child.

Things have been progressing quite normally, with the nausea and the near barfing, as well as the tiredness, the soreness, the "pregmentia".

All this while chasing an 18 month old who does not stop, even when he falls off our deck, or even when he has a fever of 103, or when he hasn't had a nap in two days.

We've been busy.

Since my sister has three boys, my other sister one boy, plus Elijah, there have been many jokes around our house about boys versus girls. We had nearly come to believe that we were not able to make girls, since our track record as a family was 100% wiener. My dad has been loving the craziness that comes with five grandsons, and takes every opportunity he can to scoop them all up at once and take pictures. Three of them won't sit still (and the other two are well on their way), so it's always fun watching that happen.

My mother, on the other hand, while she absolutely adores her grandsons, feels somewhat left out.

She wants to buy pink stuff, and Barbie dolls and My Little Ponies. Tea parties and sleepovers and girl talk and shopping and all that. So far, she's been unsuccessful in her attempts to convince her grandsons that pink is awesome.

This past Monday, Shan and I had our 20 week ultrasound. This is the big one, where we really get to examine the baby's progress. At this point, the baby is developed enough that one can study organ shape, bone structure, as well as movement. So we watched as our baby kicked against the pressure of the ultrasound wand, we watched our baby suck it's thumb, roll over, play with it's toes.

We watched our baby's tiny heart beating.

One of the other things we get to do at this ultrasound is determine the sex of the child.

This was the moment. My whole family was waiting with baited breath to hear if it was a boy or a girl. In fact, nearly everyone we know came out of the woodwork with an opinion. We actually have a sheet taped to our kitchen wall with three choices (boy, girl, no preference), and as opinions came in, I would write them down. Our friend Aubrey wanted a puppy. Sorry Aub. No puppy.

There we sat in the darkened room. Eli was getting antsy. Mommy I think was antsy. Daddy was focused on keeping Eli from kicking a hole in any of the medical equipment.

With this whole boy versus girl thing, my standard response was, "It's a boy. Think what you want, it's a boy." I had been saying the entire pregnancy as a way to be somewhat funny, and at the same time make the point that my wife and I really don't care what we're having.

Somewhere along the way, and I don't know quite where, I began to assume that I was right. I mean, look at our track record! My sister? All boys. My other sister? All boy. Us? All boy.

So in that darkened room, with our doctor waiting to congratulate us, and the ultrasound tech pushing all over Shan's belly to get a good view, and Eli try desperately to climb down and help the ultrasound tech operate her machine, Shan and I were surprised.

Me more so than her, because she confessed to me later that she has had several dreams to this effect, and had a hunch at the outcome. But me? The look on my face was genuine surprise.

We're having a daughter!

A matched set!

The million-dollar family!

We can't wait to see what the future holds for this special little girl. We can't wait to meet her, and we can't wait for her to meet Elijah!


wingnut