Our baby is no longer called ‘It’

Half way into our pregnancy and we just passed our latest milestone… The 20 week scan and the associated decision – did we want to know the gender?

An old romantic, I’d always loved the idea of a surprise and had always stood pretty firm, despite Mark’s disagreement, that should we ever get pregnant we’d have to spend the whole 40 weeks in blissful ignorance of the baby’s gender.

Skip to the day we got our positive pregnancy test and I’ve had a countdown with myself from that moment to this, determined that we would find out whether our baby was a boy or a girl. It turns out that as much as I like the idea of a surprise, I’m too impatient to wait the best part of a year to have one. That, and I am OCD organised. Not knowing and trying to plan may just have pushed me over the edge and into the land of frantic and crazy.

Nervous but excited we found ourself in the familiar ultrasound room. Me, laid down and straining to see a little hand pressed against the inside of my stomach and visible on the screen, and Mark with possibly the best seat in the house, bang opposite the screen.

We waited patiently as the ultrasound technician examined the (somewhat wriggly and uncooperative) baby from head to toe. She pointed things out to us as she took the measurements she needed, pausing only to giggle (perhaps a little frustrated) at just how active our little one was. A foot here, a leg in the air there, the brain, the tummy, a fast beating, tiny but so precious heart and our baby’s perfect, adorable little face. I finally relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief when she said:

“Everything I can check looks good. I’m happy.”

Yet she hadn’t even mentioned the gender. I’d expected she might ask us if we wanted to know. Or that it would be immediately obvious as she went through her checks.

“Can you tell the sex?” I dared ask. Knowing that regardless of whether she said boy or girl I’d be in tears at the revelation.

“Let’s have a look between the legs” she said. There’s no dignity for these poor little babies!

She navigated around my little bump, looking for what she needed. And then proceeded, after a moments silence, to declare:

“Ah, there we go…”

Cue me, laid out on her ‘table’, dress pulled up around my bust, my pants only covered by a piece of tissue, crying the happiest tears I’ve cried since our wedding day. There goes my dignity too little baby. Now we’re even!!

It’s been fairly difficult to get you to commit to reading this emotional rollercoaster without giving away our big news before you reach the end. But I’ve done a pretty good job so far. So, to finish…

Click here to see our baby’s gender