The previous post in this series is found here.
I mean it. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you for not waiting to find out the gender of your baby. Thank you for choosing to let that sonographer rub all over your preggo belly until the great secret is revealed, because I might spontaneously combust if I had to wait until your due date to find out! Hold on…
I’m back! Just the thought of not knowing for five more months sent me to my Halloween stash for another fun-size Snickers. Anyway, despite my desire to tell you everything I can about pregnancy, lately I find myself thinking about your baby and wondering if we’re going to welcome another boy cousin into the family, or if you’re going to even things out for the girls. Instead of dispensing maternal wisdom I chew on my nails and check the calendar to see how many more days until the crucial appointment.
Now, I have to admit something here. I think I know what you’re having. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I feel pretty confidant! You’ll encounter other people–friends, perfect strangers–who will declare the gender of your child based on how you’re carrying, the type of food you prefer, or simply their own intuition. (They might be really obnoxious about it and depending on your hormone levels at the time you may or may not respond graciously.)
But I’m your big sister. I’m not sure why that makes a difference here, but still, I think I know and I’ve revealed my guess in this post! Try to find it! Or not. Perhaps you rolled your eyes after the first couple of sentences and went off to do something more interesting like winterize your pool. But it’s here, on record, so that if I’m right I can slide into big sister mode and say:
I told you so!
If I’m wrong? I sincerely, absolutely, unequivocally do not care. The gender, when revealed, will suddenly be exactly what I wanted my baby sister to have. (It’s crazy how that happens!)