The suspense is literally killing me. If there was a running tally of the most impatient people in the world, I would definitely be at the top of the list. I don’t know what to call this thing in my belly and it is driving me crazy.
Some days I call it “she.” Some days I call it “he.” But mostly, I just call it “it.” I have always considered myself to be blessed with some crazy gift of intuition. I can’t exactly predict when it will rain, but I’ve always felt proud of the fact that I could almost always predict a pop quiz. So how come, now, when I need my ability to foresee the future to be spot-on, that I can’t for the life of me tell you what I am carrying.
Luckily, there are some clues. They are, however, contradictory.
• My mom, as soon as she was able to see my blossoming bump, declared that it was most definitely a boy because she carried the exact same way with my brother.
• My adorable niece, Kaitlin, poked my belly and declared, “It’s a girl.”
• My husband is 100 percent team blue all the way.
• My nausea predicts a girl definitely.
• My best friend is sure it’s a boy because of my thickening leg hair.
• I am carrying high. (Girl?)
• But, the movements in my belly are extremely low. (Boy?)
• Totally clumsy, it’s definitely a boy.
• My left boob is bigger! (Is it a girl?)
• That necklace trick? You know, the one where you dangle it over your belly and the spinning movements predict the sex. Mine stayed perfectly still right in the center. (hmmmmm?)
• My best buds at the office? (The baby experts I should say.) Three to two that it’s a boy.
I think the people who wait to find out the sex of the baby until delivery day deserve a plaque the size of California. It is hard to wait. Thankfully, we don’t have to wait much longer. Come back on Friday for a special announcement about the sex of Baby Brown. I will be so excited to share it with you, to finally know which team I am on and most importantly, to know what I can call this little person in my tummy.
Lots of love,
Tracy
