Spoiler alert!
Thanks much to everyone who participated in the should we/shouldn't we debate over learning Munchy P.'s sex.
Last night when I got home, I sat quietly for a few minutes and tried to clear everything from my decision process except for Marc and me. That got me back to where I started: Marc wants to know more than I don't want to know, and he's looking for ways to connect to our baby during a time when he's physically separate from it. So I decided that I would let him decide whether and when to find out.
When he came home from work (at like 1:30 a.m., poor thing) I woke up and asked him what he wanted to do. He said he wanted to find out, and he was pretty sure he wanted to do it at today's appointment, but we should revisit in the morning.
This morning at breakfast I asked again, and he said he wanted to find out today. So we did.
Munchy P is a boy!
Dr. V. was simultaneously very technical and very sweet about it. She pulled off the clip on that page of our chart, flipped it open, scanned, and said, "Forty-six XY. He's a little boy. And I got the first specific pronoun use!"
We're quite pleased with this result. We would have been completely happy either way--but it is exciting to know, and I think Marc's parents will be happy to have (at least) one grandchild of each. My mom will just have to deal with my not having delivered her the desired girl-child. She has a pretty spectacular granddaughter already in Johanna.
It is weird, though, to rule out the girl option just like that. I'm sure I would have felt the same way if he'd been a girl, but I have these little flashes of "Oh, we won't be able to name it any of those pretty girl names," and "Aw, no tiny little dresses (unless he wants to wear little dresses, which is just fine with me, too)." I'm not disappointed, I'm just sort of saying goodbye to the other possible baby. Like Schrodinger's cat, but without the radiation or whatever horrid means they use to eliminate the alternate-universe cat in the box.
Another really cool thing that happened during this decision process: Last night while I was mulling over Marc's stated desire to find out, I'm pretty sure I got my first feeling of the baby moving. It was really difficult to describe: not a solid kick by any means, but just a feeling of specifically placed, sliding pressure--very light, kind of ticklish, not constant--in an internal place that roughly corresponds with the left side of my uterus and where I've never felt any pressure before. It happened about three times during the space of five minutes and hasn't recurred. I wonder if I could feel it because I'd been sleeping quietly for a couple of hours and then woke up and was stretching out, very relaxed, on my back. Munchy may have woken up with me, and because of the position and my relaxed state, I could feel the movement better. Anyway, I felt like Munchy P was backing up our decision.
Okay. Lunch now. Thanks again for enabling my wishy-washy decision making process.
Yeah. Gotta change that tag.
Oh, p.s. Everything else went well at the visit. Heartbeat is normal, regular, and strong. My weight has only gone up a pound in a month (that'll change very soon), and my blood pressure was a bit high but Dr. V said she wasn't worried because it's hot and humid and we were late to our appointment and were waiting for some really big news.
Last night when I got home, I sat quietly for a few minutes and tried to clear everything from my decision process except for Marc and me. That got me back to where I started: Marc wants to know more than I don't want to know, and he's looking for ways to connect to our baby during a time when he's physically separate from it. So I decided that I would let him decide whether and when to find out.
When he came home from work (at like 1:30 a.m., poor thing) I woke up and asked him what he wanted to do. He said he wanted to find out, and he was pretty sure he wanted to do it at today's appointment, but we should revisit in the morning.
This morning at breakfast I asked again, and he said he wanted to find out today. So we did.
Munchy P is a boy!
Dr. V. was simultaneously very technical and very sweet about it. She pulled off the clip on that page of our chart, flipped it open, scanned, and said, "Forty-six XY. He's a little boy. And I got the first specific pronoun use!"
We're quite pleased with this result. We would have been completely happy either way--but it is exciting to know, and I think Marc's parents will be happy to have (at least) one grandchild of each. My mom will just have to deal with my not having delivered her the desired girl-child. She has a pretty spectacular granddaughter already in Johanna.
It is weird, though, to rule out the girl option just like that. I'm sure I would have felt the same way if he'd been a girl, but I have these little flashes of "Oh, we won't be able to name it any of those pretty girl names," and "Aw, no tiny little dresses (unless he wants to wear little dresses, which is just fine with me, too)." I'm not disappointed, I'm just sort of saying goodbye to the other possible baby. Like Schrodinger's cat, but without the radiation or whatever horrid means they use to eliminate the alternate-universe cat in the box.
Another really cool thing that happened during this decision process: Last night while I was mulling over Marc's stated desire to find out, I'm pretty sure I got my first feeling of the baby moving. It was really difficult to describe: not a solid kick by any means, but just a feeling of specifically placed, sliding pressure--very light, kind of ticklish, not constant--in an internal place that roughly corresponds with the left side of my uterus and where I've never felt any pressure before. It happened about three times during the space of five minutes and hasn't recurred. I wonder if I could feel it because I'd been sleeping quietly for a couple of hours and then woke up and was stretching out, very relaxed, on my back. Munchy may have woken up with me, and because of the position and my relaxed state, I could feel the movement better. Anyway, I felt like Munchy P was backing up our decision.
Okay. Lunch now. Thanks again for enabling my wishy-washy decision making process.
Yeah. Gotta change that tag.
Oh, p.s. Everything else went well at the visit. Heartbeat is normal, regular, and strong. My weight has only gone up a pound in a month (that'll change very soon), and my blood pressure was a bit high but Dr. V said she wasn't worried because it's hot and humid and we were late to our appointment and were waiting for some really big news.