In the past, whenever I heard someone say something like “I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, I just want a healthy baby”, I was a little bit annoyed. Okay, a lot annoyed. You see, I wasn’t nearly that mature. I cared a lot. Of course, I wanted a healthy baby, but I also wanted a girl.
For some reason, I had always envisioned myself being an all-girl mama. I’m a girly-girl. I know about dolls and ribbons and hair and clothes and know nothing about trucks and cars and spiderman. So when I went in for my first 20-week ultrasound, I was certain–without a doubt– that I was having a girl. I was wrong.
I confess, it took me some time to get used to the idea of having a boy, but once I held my son, I didn’t care anymore. I adored him.
Then, I got pregnant again. And, just because I adored my son didn’t mean my yearning for a girl was any less. In fact, that time, I was terrified. I had nightmares about having quadruplet boys and ending up getting pregnant 17 times and has 17 boys. The day before I went in for that ultrasound, I wrote an article for Nickelodeon about how badly I wanted a girl that still rankles people when they read it. Just look at the comments! But I didn’t care. I desperately wanted a girl. And when I found out at my ultrasound that I was pregnant with a girl, I was ecstatic.
Fast forward almost four years and I have both a boy and a girl. And, suddenly, I’m one of those mamas. I’m saying it. Officially: I don’t care if this baby is a boy or a girl. I just want him or her to be healthy. I know that annoys the tar out of some of you (it would’ve annoyed me immensely during my last pregnancy) but this time, I’m really 100% neutral.
So, we’ll find out in about an hour. I’m nervous… but only because I’m anxious to know.
I’ll let you know tomorrow.
(My guess: A boy)