Week 25 and the Gender Question

Lordy, I look big. 

Still getting the sideways looks of people wondering if there's a baby in there, though for the life of me I don't know how it's a question any more.

After the tentative "...are you...?" question, people inevitably ask two more: "When are you due?" and "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Both very valid inquiries.

We've decided to wait to learn if Tiny is a boy or a girl.

Even back before I knew I was pregnant, I figured it didn't really matter to me whether we found out the baby's gender. I could go either way -- I mean, either way, it's exciting, right? Eric made the choice easy. We are not finding out. Period. Alright, husband, it's not like you're opinionated or anything.

As time goes on, I'm more and more glad that we made the decision to be surprised. For one thing, we want a big family, so here's to hoping we'll get more gender-neutral gifts to use as hand-me-downs. For another, as Eric put it, it's one of the few surprises in life that's going to be wonderful regardless of the outcome, so why interrupt it?

It's funny how many people feel strongly about this decision. After people learn that we're waiting, their next question is often, "how can you stand to wait?"

Well, I figure I'll know sooner or later. I mean, of course I'm excited. Of course I'm curious. But it's not like we can decorate too much, anyway. We're tenants, after all. Nesting has been rather difficult, actually.

Others want to know whether we hope Tiny is a boy or a girl. Again, our answer may seem almost apathetic to some people. We don't care. Growing up with an older brother, I always thought that I wanted a boy first. But marrying someone with an older sister -- an amazing older sister -- has made me feel more than happy with that option, too. We're planning on having enough, anyway; we're bound to get some of both. Hopefully.

There are people in this very liberal town where we live who seem to think our decision to not learn Tiny's gender (and our expressed hope for gender-neutral gifts) means that we're planning on raising a gender-neutral child. Oh. Ahem. No comment.

It's kind of fun to hear people's predictions on what Tiny will be, too. Most of my coworkers, and people from church, are convinced that Tiny's a boy. I don't put much stock in their predictions, to be honest. Who can know these things? Every culture seems to have it's own way of telling the gender of your baby from the outside. "You're carrying low -- it's a boy. "You're only showing in the front -- it's a boy." Sure, they could be right. They've got a 50-50 chance, after all.

I've only recently begun to "suspect" -- and not even seriously at all, since my reasoning is really rather silly -- that Tiny might be a girl, since whenever Eric speaks, Tiny's movement gets much more excited. If Tiny is a girly, she's in love with her daddy already. Just like me.