this time we have chosen not to find out the gender. this news is met with two reactions, "oh, i could never do that- it would kill me." or "good for you, old school - i like that!". there is also a small category of non believers who question me after every ultrasound, "so did you find out this time!?"
we have our guess, and as a team we say: boy.
now here we are, 37 weeks in, lazily debating names, a special doll, and blankets (because i'll be damned if number two doesn't get some of his/her own things. practicality has no place amongst these hormones). yet in all this indecisiveness, when i take a minute to stop and look around the nursery i find myself staring at the beginning of something i didn't intend to happen. i see raw wood, white, and silver mist. gentle light peeking through your tasseled curtains. i see your brothers sailboat mobile and it fills me to the brim knowing you will start and end your days looking at the same thing he did. i see you, baby, wrapped up in your muslim blanket with your sure to be chicken legs, jerkily moving about. it is a tranquil, gentle, and serene room. all of which is - inadvertently- our hopes for you.
it is ready for you, boy or girl, to join us and make us four.