As we anticipated finding out the gender of our baby I was honestly 50/50. At times I would envision Luke enjoying father/son outings and imagine a little buddy tagging along with me like my younger brothers used to do. My heart melted at the thought of a little guy coming to join us. Then I would remember tiny pink bows and dainty dresses and sweet little giggles and I would long to have a baby girl all over again. So despite having all girls already, I really didn't have a preference.
Even while we waited in the waiting room at the imaging center I tried to imagine them telling me one way and then the other, just to test how I would really feel when I heard the final word. Finally, logic prevailed and I decided, "It's a girl. It's always a girl. Every time we do this I get all antsy about finding out what it's going to be and every time they say it's a girl." A cloud of pink flooded my mind. I got giddy at the thought of embroidered flowers and was overcome by an urge to unpack all the little dresses I still have stashed away. Grinning widely as they called our names I practically skipped back to imaging room. We chatted with the technician for a minute and then black and white blotches filled the screen in front of us. One look and before the technician could say anything I blurted out, "It IS a boy!!!" I was genuinely surprised and somewhat bewildered. I remember looking at Luke with a feeling of something like, "Well...what do we do now?" On the drive home we talked about names, redecorating, scouting, and even preparing him to serve an LDS mission, trying to take in all the new concepts and responsibilities that will become a part of our family life.
A boy. Half the time I still can't believe I'm even pregnant. The fact that he's a boy seems something like the icing on the cake at this whole surprise party. So far I don't feel a strong inclination to start accumulating baby things. In fact I'm more inclined to avoid it. I haven't been motivated to shop and or felt really drawn to little boy clothes. It's not an unattractive idea for me because he's a boy. It's because he's not here. I don't want clothes and cribs and car seats. I want a BABY. I want that moment when I am holding him and his warm fuzzy head is against my cheek and I know that he is ok and so am I and nothing else matters except that he is here. A conglomeration of unused items sitting idly in an empty room seems more like a taunting reminder of how long this whole process really takes rather than a confirmation that it is really happening. Why do that to myself?
Well, because he's a BOY, and he is coming to a home that is inundated with ruffles, sparkles, and every shade of pink imaginable. Really, there is not a blue item or even a gender-neutral tone in this entire house. He's going to get here sometime and when he does we ought to have something for him to wear, and having a few diapers around would probably prove beneficial too. Therefore, let the nesting begin...
So little baby, I will try to be patient over the next 20 weeks while we wait for you to grow. I will not complain that you are taking too long. I will not worry that something will interfere between now and that moment when you are completely mine. I will not get teary looking at your empty bed wishing I could already lay you in it. Instead I will busily create a baby haven of blue and beige without a single lace ruffle or bow. And then finally, we will welcome you home, and you will always be our little boy.
