It's less than a month until we find out the gender of our little Cherry Blossom/Ball. I know better than the engage Jeff in a conversation about baby names PRIOR to learning the baby's gender, but doesn't mean I won't try.
Here's how I see it: I don't know if we will ever get pregnant again, so from now until we know the baby's gender, it's my last chance to have all possibilities open. I could be the mother of two girls; I could have a girl and a boy. Once we know the gender, one of these possibilities will not be ours, unless you count the possibility that the ultra sound is wrong and they totally miss a penis. Let's say we find out we are having a little girl. Then I have to come to terms with the fact that it's possible that I may not give birth to a son. There will be feelings associated with that, I assume. There will also be the joy of thinking of Sadie and her sister walking through life, sharing clothes and getting Sunday pedicures with me. (My son can do that too, but just thinking of the fantasy that pops in my mind).
Let's say we find out we are having a boy. I can imagine having a great deal of feelings about that, including some anxiety about having a different gendered baby, the joy of more shopping to get boy stuff and the thought of parenting both a son and a daughter.
Obviously, both of the outcomes are huge, bountiful wins for our family. It's not that, it's just that if we find out we are having a girl, then my chances to engage Jeff in a serious conversation about boys' names dwindles like so many animal crackers at my desk. Similarly, if we find out we are having a boy, we can talk about the boy stuff, but I will never hear Jeff's thoughts or fantasies about having a little sister for Sadie.
All of this is because of efficiency and Jeff's dedication to it. As I hear his version, it makes no sense to talk about baby names until we know the gender because then you only have to do 50% of the work. We're not having a boy? Great. Jeff doesn't have to tall me squat about how he feels about the name Zachary, or Elijah, or Will.i.am, or Brandon. Think of all that breath we will save.
The night before we found out Sadie's gender, I tried to have this philosophical discussion with Jeff about baby names and possibilities and foreclosures once you know the gender of your baby, but he was having none of it. NONE. He wouldn't humor me with one opinion about a single name. That was February 19, 2009. Let's just say neither of us are eager to return to that level of drama and resulting frigidity.
It's a happy time. I can think about my son and my daughter all day long and I can talk to anyone (else) who will listen and try on names with me.
People keep asking me what I hope the baby's gender is. Honestly, there are so many blessings wrapped around both choices, and of course, being at my advanced age and having eschewed genetic testing, I honest to Goodness just want a healthy little one.
The big gender appointment is September 15. So, if you hear cries of distress and self-pity on September 14, you will know I went there with Jeff and that I didn't enjoy the outcome.
Here's how I see it: I don't know if we will ever get pregnant again, so from now until we know the baby's gender, it's my last chance to have all possibilities open. I could be the mother of two girls; I could have a girl and a boy. Once we know the gender, one of these possibilities will not be ours, unless you count the possibility that the ultra sound is wrong and they totally miss a penis. Let's say we find out we are having a little girl. Then I have to come to terms with the fact that it's possible that I may not give birth to a son. There will be feelings associated with that, I assume. There will also be the joy of thinking of Sadie and her sister walking through life, sharing clothes and getting Sunday pedicures with me. (My son can do that too, but just thinking of the fantasy that pops in my mind).
Let's say we find out we are having a boy. I can imagine having a great deal of feelings about that, including some anxiety about having a different gendered baby, the joy of more shopping to get boy stuff and the thought of parenting both a son and a daughter.
Obviously, both of the outcomes are huge, bountiful wins for our family. It's not that, it's just that if we find out we are having a girl, then my chances to engage Jeff in a serious conversation about boys' names dwindles like so many animal crackers at my desk. Similarly, if we find out we are having a boy, we can talk about the boy stuff, but I will never hear Jeff's thoughts or fantasies about having a little sister for Sadie.
All of this is because of efficiency and Jeff's dedication to it. As I hear his version, it makes no sense to talk about baby names until we know the gender because then you only have to do 50% of the work. We're not having a boy? Great. Jeff doesn't have to tall me squat about how he feels about the name Zachary, or Elijah, or Will.i.am, or Brandon. Think of all that breath we will save.
The night before we found out Sadie's gender, I tried to have this philosophical discussion with Jeff about baby names and possibilities and foreclosures once you know the gender of your baby, but he was having none of it. NONE. He wouldn't humor me with one opinion about a single name. That was February 19, 2009. Let's just say neither of us are eager to return to that level of drama and resulting frigidity.
It's a happy time. I can think about my son and my daughter all day long and I can talk to anyone (else) who will listen and try on names with me.
People keep asking me what I hope the baby's gender is. Honestly, there are so many blessings wrapped around both choices, and of course, being at my advanced age and having eschewed genetic testing, I honest to Goodness just want a healthy little one.
The big gender appointment is September 15. So, if you hear cries of distress and self-pity on September 14, you will know I went there with Jeff and that I didn't enjoy the outcome.
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