There are 95 days until D-Day. I can't quite explain the envelope of emotions that surrounds when I put my thoughts in terms of days left. Emotions that span the entire spectrum.
We could have started a significant college fund for this wee one had we decided to charge for the sympathetic glances thrown our way when people discover we have chosen not to find out the gender. We must be a) insane, b) people who don't like to plan, c) the victims of some sort of horrible ultrasound tech who couldn't tell us, or d) all of the above.
But the answer is actually: this will be the greatest surprise in our life, just like Ruby was.
Half the pregnancy fun is all about anticipating the likes of the little person that I am sharing my body with; it's such a strange phenomenon to love this person so and know virtually nothing about them other than the fact that they have really sharp knees and elbows.
Virtually nothing also means: this mystery person doesn't even have a name. Or not even a list of names to choose from. That might cover the freaking out part of the emotional spectrum.
It doesn't matter how the question is phrased, Ruby always says baby is a girl. Always. If she is right, I'm trading in my intuition for something new and improved. I was completely wrong about Ruby, and of course there is that potential with this baby (the fun of surprises!) but I will be utterly shocked if this baby comes out sans boy parts.
Don't mark my words; they may have little to no meaning.
Either way, it is unbelievable to think of where we came from; when I found out about babycake, he/she was the size of a poppy seed. Now movements are unmistakeable, and um...so is my size.
95 days [give or take] until this sweet and completely unique little person joins our family. We can't wait for our precious surprise!
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