How did we used to do it? Richard Branson sure took his sweet-ass time sending his pawns out here to hook us up...
Anyway, all is well and here we are settled into the new house. Well, by "settled" I mean we know where the kettle, peanut butter, and TV are, and have made a pretty valiant effort at unpacking the mountains of boxes (either that, or stuffing them into the spare-room wardrobe...). At any rate, we're comfortable and thrilled to be here, and proud as punch to be in an actual house rather than a flat.
I love that the baby also has an actual room- not that we've done much beyond placing inside of it a bag consisting of a stuffed lamb, 5 receiving blankets, and 3 items of unisex clothing- but stay tuned because it's our next project!
Speaking of the bambino, tomorrow we get to find out if it's a boy or a girl, barring any tragedies of the modest leg-crossing kind, which would result in perhaps the world's first in-utero time out (still figuring out the logistics of an in-utero time out, but trust me, I'm creative). But in all reality I'm much more excited then I'm letting on, because I fear that if I fully let the excitement wash over me then I will basically be paralyzed with it. No matter what, for the rest of our lives we will have either a son or a daughter, there's nothing that can or will change that fact- and the magnitude of that is immense. This is the last night of our lives that we won't have that knowledge, the last night that we'll have to say "him or her", the last night that we'll be without this tiny little window into the person our child will become. From tomorrow we'll be asking ourselves if she'll be a tomboy or a girly-girl, if he'll cheer for Wrexham like his Daddy or if he'll be Cardiff City boy?
I never completely believed people when they said they don't mind if their baby is a boy or a girl, but I totally get it now. I would love to have a daughter and have the experience of that bond, to read "Anne of Green Gables" and "Little House on the Prairie" with her, to plan sleepovers, and do arts and crafts projects involving lots and lots of glitter! But equally, I'd love to have a son. To see my husband racing around with our little boy, getting all excited over the dinosaurs in the museum, and to watch him grow into a smart, polite, and good man. Both dreams fill me with joy, I think because they are centred around a happy and healthy child, which in the end is all that we want.
To that end, I'm trying to remind myself that the reason for the ultrasound scan tomorrow is not so we can see our adorable baby and find out the sex, it's an actual medical procedure to check on the baby's general health and well-being, everything else is secondary, albeit exciting.
Look for an update some time tomorrow!
I say read Little House and Anne anyway! :) Or maybe you can find some swashbuckling alternatives, like Swiss Family Robinson and Treasure Island.
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