Him or Her?

This week we find out whether our baby is a boy or a girl.

I was officially 20 weeks last week, so I scheduled two appointments that had to be postponed one for my job, one for Marcus’s.  Many friends of mine already know what they’re having, and I’m so jealous!!! 

I want to say a name when I talk to him or her.  I want to stop saying him or her. 

There are so many stories to be told.  Like the first time I feel her kick.  The first time Marcus feels him kick.  The stories will be much better when I have a name & the appropriate pronoun.  I feel like I can’t even start telling the stories yet until then.  (I haven't felt anyone kick yet.)

And then there are the practical reasons. 

I’ll find out which things I will need to buy & which things I can borrow from my sister.

And one of us will finally be right.   

Marcus knows it's a boy.  Or rather he really really wants it to be a boy because he doesn't want it to be a girl. 

He is afraid of the power she might have over him. 

He is afraid of all the boys in the world being there and not being there for her. 

He is afraid that the boys in her life will be like he was. 

Therefore he is convinced that his sperm is only capable of producing males.  Like this beautiful one in all these pictures. 

I on the other hand, wanted a boy, but I know it's a girl. 

I know because I am due very very close to a very dear deceased friend of mine's birthday, and I will name her after that friend.

Because all the chefs, cooks, and support staff at my restaurant look at me & tell me it's a girl.

Because a random girl that was working at an event listened to me talk, heard about my news & told me it was a girl.

I was checking out at Central Market and the guy asked me about my New Year.  Then I asked about his.  His first grand daughter was recently born.  I told him I was expecting too.  He said he worked somewhere once and 13 women were pregnant at the same time.  He guessed 12 out of 13 correctly.  He told me I was having a girl.

I know because I just have a feeling. 

And finally, one day I was sitting next to my future stepson.  He kept looking at my belly, so I asked him if he wanted to feel the baby.  "Yes.”  And he did. 

I said, "Your daddy thinks it's a boy, and I think it's a girl.  What do you think?" 

He thought for a moment. "It's a girl." He touched my belly some more.  

Now when Marcus talks to people about his new baby boy, his son yells, "Daddy, it's a girl!" and punches him in the leg.

When we were in Houston, I told him how my sister was going to be running a marathon.  I explained what a marathon was, "like running all the way from your daddy's house to your mommy's house."  He asked if I would run too.  I explained that I wouldn't because it wouldn't be good for the baby.  "Because when you run a lot your heartbeat goes really fast, and that means the baby's does too, and that might hurt the baby."

He responded, "My sister?"