I may or may not have (desperately) hoped for a girl. In fact, John and I had our daughter’s name picked out about five minutes after we found out I was pregnant. It felt right from the very beginning. Regardless, I never had a gut feeling about what the baby was. I didn’t have any vivid dreams until the day of the gender reveal ultrasound. But I did know that I couldn’t let myself get too attached to the idea of a girl, because knowing my luck, it would be a boy. And of course, I would have loved that boy to pieces. But something about having a baby girl seemed undeniably appealing and I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.
I prayed for a healthy and happy baby (occasionally requesting it be of the female variety) every night. I made a wish for a girl every time I drove under a tunnel with my breath held. I hoped on every fallen eyelash, on every full moon, on every superstition I could think of, that this child maybe, just maybe, be a little girl. Admittedly, this makes me sound incredibly selfish and ungrateful. After all, shouldn’t I just be thankful to be able to start a family and not concern myself with the details? YES. I absolutely believe that. But man! Pregnancy has a way of taking your thought process to a whole new level of obsessive.
At my 12 week appointment, I was able to take home some decent shots of the baby, including one in particular that had us analyzing certain body parts far too closely. Clearly, we had no clue what we were looking at, so we recruited the opinions of just about anyone and everyone with a pair of eyes. And as it turned out, they had no clue what they were looking at either. Needless to say, the suspense was killing us!
So I made an appointment to have an ultrasound at 17 weeks.
John and I went back and forth over whether we wanted to have a gender reveal party (all the cool kids are doing it these days) or whether we wanted to find out privately. After much thought, we decided on the latter. Even though it would have been fun to have a little party with our closest family + friends, it was so much more “us” to celebrate privately.
During the appointment, I was SO NERVOUS. John, of course, played it cool as usual. Once the tech confirmed the sex of the baby, she wrote it down on a piece of paper and tucked the note into an envelope with plenty of photos for safekeeping. We guarded that thing with our lives. That night, we went out for a late Valentine’s-slash-gender reveal celebratory dinner at an Italian restaurant here Pasadena. After ordering our meals, we finally worked up the nerve to open the envelope. I was incredibly anxious so we agreed to look at it at on the count of three (dramatic, I know). As we opened it up, I was fully expecting to see the word “boy” spelled out. Imagine my surprise (and sheer joy) when I read “girl” instead. Ahhh, I want to remember that moment and that feeling forever!
The baby girl we had been pining for was no longer just a distant dream; she was real and she was ours.