I had my first dream about the baby this week. I was frantically ordering baby gear from Amazon at the last minute (note to self: we already have a swing and a crib aquarium, but we do need BATTERIES. you cannot parent without BATTERIES) when it was suddenly time for my scheduled c-section, and then suddenly someone handed me the baby. A big fat naked baby boy, who nursed easily and awesomely, and was just about the cutest thing ever, although he looked nothing like Noah. And oh my GOD, his thighs. I couldn't stop squishing them. I loved him completely, and was sorry to wake up and remember that October is still a long time away.
I had baby dreams all the time when I was pregnant with Noah, but never NICE dreams. They always involved the baby not being human, or us being woefully unprepared for his arrival (I still remember one where we were desperately trying to buy a carseat, and I lost the baby in an endless sea of racks of Washington Redskins sweatshirts.) The baby was always a boy, even before we knew we were having a boy, although I wonder if that was just another shade of anxiety, since I was pretty scared about having a boy.
I woke up and told Jason that we're having another boy, and he harrumphed and said he'd believe it when he saw it -- why is it that mothers (or fine, JUST ME) get all hand-wringy about daring to have a gender preference and fathers are perfectly okay with wanting one or the other? (Jason wants a girl. He claims it's because he doesn't want "us" to get tempted into having a third child in order to have a girl, like DUDE. I don't know where he gets this "we" and "us" business because I am perfectly happy with being the sole princess in a houseful of boys, but Jason is suddenly going ga-ga over the little striped tights in the girls' clothing section.)
(Okay, I do love the tights too. But Noah has this pair of barely-worn baby Pumas that KILL. ME. Oh! And this little corduroy blazer and a pageboy cap! Plus, I just plain love baby boys.)
(OKAY! I would love to have a daughter. I don't care! I just don't want to throw up any more! I am easy to please!)
We're getting the nuchal translucency screening done in about two weeks and my doctor dangled out the possibility that, thanks to his new-fangled fancy 4D ultrasound machine, that we MIGHT be able to get a pretty decent guess at the sex. (Mr. Google tells me the 4D ultrasounds can correctly identify boy or girl parts at the end of the first trimester about 85% of the time.) Part of me is like, YEEHAW, SPREAD 'EM, FETUS, while another tiny part of me is wondering what it would be like to NOT find out this time.
On the one hand, I don't feel like Noah's birth was any less OH MY GOD MY BABY! because we knew he was a boy and were even 99.99999% sure of his name. Hell, we even knew what he was going to look like. And since I did have a slight preference for a girl (for dumb reasons that I've already covered), I felt like I needed to know ahead of time to make sure I wouldn't have that twinge of disappointment when a boy popped out. (Totally lame fear, I know, but clearly I had MASSIVE doubt in my mothering skills and instincts last time.)
On the other hand, I don't have a preference this time. The guessing game is sort-of fun even if it drives me nuts with the relentless pointlessness of it all. (Yesterday at Noah's mock preschool therapy thing another mother had me and another pregnant woman hold her three-month-old, since in her culture there's an old wives tale that says how infants react to a pregnant woman can predict the gender.) (Verdict: he cried when I held him [boy, and therefore his rival], settled down when the other mother held him [girl, and therefore his sweetheart]). I doubt I have the self-control to not find out since it's just so EASY, what with the ultrasound machine being six inches from me at every prenatal appointment from here on out.
On the other other hand, since I know there's a very good chance this pregnancy will end with a shockingly anti-climatic scheduled c-section, maybe not knowing the sex is my way of injecting a little bit of excitement and drama into the proceedings.
What do you guys think? Any experience with both finding out vs. not finding out? Totally worth it or just still sort of OH MY GOD MY BABY! either way?
And...um...how the heck would I break this to Jason who is completely and totally unaware this crazy idea is rattling around in my brain and thinks we're definitely going to find out, and how would I go about changing his mind by 9:40 am on April 9th?