Magic Pictures

Myself, my mother, my grandmother, and my great-grandmother are all first born girls. When I was pregnant with Will, I felt confident that I would be continuing in this tradition. I truly believed that fate would bring me a girl. When we had a 20-week ultrasound, I made grand claims that there would be “no stem on the apple” visible in the fuzzy pictures. We learned two things that day: that I was wrong and that Will was probably not going to need a sports car.

That day I learned that the knowledge of a baby’s sex could be an experience in humor and humility. As a result, in this pregnancy, I have been hesitant to claim authoritative knowledge on the baby’s sex. With the first pregnancy, Paul and I had a firm choice in boy’s names (William, obviously) but not so firm on girl’s names. This time, we are firm on girl’s names (Katherine “Kate”) but not so firm on boy’s names (Jackson “Jack” and Charles “Charlie” are my top picks, neither one liked much by Paul, who has not had any favorites thus far.) So I have been going on the belief that because we actually have a firm name picked for a girl, it therefore had to be a girl.

Subconsciously, I’ve been thinking, feeling, and wanting a girl. A boy and a girl, one of each, “the complete set” as Paul calls it. Without intending to, I have been fixating on this baby being a girl. I slip up and call the baby “she”. I’ve been checking out girl’s crib linens (Will’s linens are blue cars, trucks, and airplanes). I’ve been planning out how to do a fun gender-neutral bedroom (the kids will share a room) that has accents of both boy and girl colors. This has all been happening in secret. I have been afraid that sharing my secret thoughts would jinx me good. I know that Murphy’s Law is out there and I have experienced its humbling poignancy.

So today was a big day. It turns out Murphy let me slide.

*It’s a girl!*