On Mother’s Day 2005, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. I was officially pregnant with my first child. David and I rested side by side on our bed, staring up at the skylight, and we were in total shock. The pregnancy was planned, but we were still in complete shock. Everything ran through my mind at that moment, including, that I didn’t want to know the big question that everyone asks a pregnant woman, “are you having a boy or a girl?”
Throughout my three pregnancies, I’ve been asked that question over and over and over again. My response is, “I’m having a surprise.” And from there, I get so many different responses.
“How can you decorate the nursery?”
“How can you buy clothes?”
“Oh, I could never do that!”
“Doesn’t the suspense kill you?”
“But…then you just end up with a bunch of yellow and green!”
“How can you bond with your baby?”
I’ve heard it all and it doesn’t bother me, because I wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s not many surprises in life. I mean, those sweet, priceless surprises. So, since there aren’t many to be had, I make my own. I choose to not know. That moment in the delivery room is like no other. We make sure the doctor doesn’t announce the baby’s sex, I don’t want to hear it from the doctor, I want to hear it from my husband. And that moment, that moment when David says, “it’s a boy!” or “it’s a girl!” well, that moment is amazing.
I pulled Emma’s baby clothes down from the attic a few days ago because I wanted this outfit. A simple white knit cardigan with matching bottoms. The outfit Eli wore in the hospital and the outfit Emma wore as well. I washed it and dried it and now it sits waiting for another little E to wear it. Our third surprise and it’s just a few weeks away.