I know the sex of my baby, but my husband doesn’t.
This was not a planned or particularly well thought out decision of mine. When the sonographer at the 18-week ultrasound asked me if I wanted to know the sex, I quickly blurted out, ‘yes!’
I’d had the opportunity through prenatal testing to find out earlier, but I’d declined. ‘Why would you want to spoil one of the biggest surprises the world has in store for you?’ I always thought.
We have one beautiful three-year-old daughter, and neither of us wanted to find out if she was a boy or girl in the lead up to the birth.
I know what’s coming…My husband? Not so much.
But this time, not knowing was eating away at me. I needed to know if our family was going to be evened out or if my husband was about to be severely outnumbered. If I told you I wasn’t favouring one over the other I’d be lying. I wasn’t going to be disappointed either way; I just wanted to be prepared for the outcome in advance.
My husband’s reason for not wanting to find out is different. He missed the birth of our daughter, and wants to have the whole gender reveal, ‘It’s a girl/ boy!’, in the delivery room.
I’ve let him know that it doesn’t quite go down like that. When I had Amelia, there were no trumpets or doves singing. I unceremoniously asked the doctor, ‘WHAT IS IT?’ when it became clear that everyone in the room knew the sex except me. And there were a LOT of other people in the room…
Since I’d already had her before my husband even got on a plane home, I asked if he wanted to know what we had. He didn’t. And so she remained unnamed (we’d already picked a name for each) for seven hours until he arrived at the hospital.
But this time around, as busy working parents we never got around to having the ‘should we find out?’ conversation before the scan. I knew that he didn’t want to find out, but I still hadn’t decided what I wanted to do. Well, until I found myself alone in the ultrasound room.