We didn’t find out if “Doodle” (EJ) was a boy or a girl. There was already so much to be excited for. Ways to celebrate the pregnancy. The birthing classes, the breastfeeding classes, the newborn care classes- not to mention the nursery, organizing gender neutral baby shower gifts.
And while we hoped to have another baby, the journey to “Squishy” was a little bumpier. We had a miscarriage in between these pregnancies. It took more attempts, drugs and hormones. We decided to try “1 more time” before our infertility doc went out on maternity leave.
And it worked.
And then I started getting sick almost immediately.
I gag while brushing my teeth. I hurl at the sight of dog food. While driving I have simultaneously peed myself while puking- our 2 year old proclaiming “eeewwww mama…” in the back seat.
“It will get better in the 2nd trimester….” They said.
In fact, if I’m being honest. I kind of hate this pregnancy. I was looking forward to another glowy awesome pregnancy when I loved my body. The feeling of so much joy, feeling life dance inside me. Watching my belly grow. Oh how I loved the bump and feeling kicks.
I throw up every day. I hate my body. I feel like shit. Thanks to my perfectly centered anterior placenta its hard to feel the baby move or even hear a heartbeat.
So I talked to Mary. I needed something to be excited for. Something to celebrate this pregnancy and to be unique.
So we decided to find out the gender.
We went to a privately-owned ultrasound place (not our midwives office) because they could see us sooner. And while I’m glad we went…I must admit the ultrasound tech was…. shall we say very conservative? It was obvious that she wasn’t too keen on the idea of a same sex family. She made her opinions be known.
And when people don’t even attempt to hide their biases, I personally enjoy making them squirm. So when she told us it was a boy…I couldn’t help myself. “Well. That’s the first time a penis has ever been inside me…” just came out of my mouth. She was horrified. Mary rolled her eyes.
At least it will make for a good story 😊
Our baby boy is very healthy. Growing well, and has all the major body parts. We are so very excited. I wouldn’t have cared one way or the other- but I feel like I finally have something to think about besides puking and pure exhaustion.
A baby born after a pregnancy lost is sometimes called a “rainbow baby”. Last week- I saw a pattern for a little rainbow baby hat, and decided to make it. I didn’t know if I should sew on a coordinating button or a rainbow bow. I made a bow and decided I would just take it to the hospital with us. But now I’m excited to sew on the little button. And maybe I can turn the bow into a matching bow tie. And I can’t wait to sort through the clothes our friends gave us for a boy. Or come up with a boy name. Or find matching Big Sis/Little Bro outfits.
I’d be just as happy going through EJ’s clothes to sort out the newborn sizes, attaching a bow, finding a girl’s name and knitting matching mermaid tail sleep sacks for the girls.
I feel like I finally have something to think about. Something to hope for, something to look forward to- besides how miserable I am. Every pregnancy, every baby, and every person is different…and I’m really glad we decided to do this.