When I was pregnant with The Bear, I was convinced he was a girl. I mean absolutely 100% sure and ready to live in a world of pink. All the old wives tales told me girl. The Chinese Lunar calendar said girl. My gut said girl.
When the ultrasound tech told us he was a he, I was shocked. Hubby of course was ecstatic. He had been secretly hoping for a boy (don't all dads?) and was totally surprised since I had brainwashed him into believing we were having a girl. I asked the tech if she was sure. She was. At every ultrasound we had after that (we ended up having a bunch because of medical issues), I always played dumb and had them check the gender again.
I was sad. Part of me was sad, because I'm a girly girl and wanted to paint nails and do hair. I think a bigger part of me was sad because I was so very sure of it. It's rough to be told you're wrong.
The end of my pregnancy brought us many other issues. He was diagnosed with IUGR and an irregular blood flow through the umbilical cord. I was put on bed rest and induced the day I was considered full term (37 weeks). The scariest moment I've had was when Hubby and I were sitting in the OBs office. He told us I would induced that Thursday night, because "the risks of having a baby 3 weeks early outweigh the risks of him being stillborn."
We were so grateful to hear our son cry and be able to hold him. Grated, he took a short trip to the NICU and we did face challenges with him being small. He's a fighter though. I would never trade him for anything. I love having a little boy. Trucks and trains suit me better than I expected.
This time, I feel that Baby is a boy. I am the first to admit my mother's intuition is lacking in the guessing the gender bit though. But, I honestly don't care either way. I would love to have another boy. There's something that warms my heart being able to say "my boys" in reference to my family. A little girl would be fun though and those bows still catch my eye.
I just want a healthy baby. I'll be content with any child God sends my way.