I’m pregnant!

I was thinking of finding some super cute way of announcing it – but honestly, I’m so exhausted and nauseous that it took me this long to even get to those two words.

I’ve announced it to most of my family, and a few close friends, and the rest of the world is subject to just speculating until I get to 12 weeks (only 4 weeks away!!)

Baby due November 2013. :)

(I’ll be back soon to bore you with details)

This month I didn’t turn off the light, climb into bed and cry.

This month I didn’t cry longingly, or scream in frustration.

We did everything we could… And, it wasn’t enough.

But, there’s always next month.

And, while there are moments when the impatience overwhelms me, each month I also see a benefit.. whether it’s more debt paid off, or AMP just a little more excited about the prospect.  :) 

So, I wait…

always my baby

Sometimes the hardest part is the not knowing — the not knowing whether to refer to the baby as a he or a she… being forced to use the despised ‘it’.

There are moments when I can live with the not knowing if the baby would have had brown eyes like mommy and daddy – or somehow inherited grandma’s green eyes…if the baby’s hair would be curly – or defied all odds and be stick straight.

But not knowing the basic fact of whether it was a boy or a girl – that feels unbearable.

Oftentimes I refer to it as ‘her’.  But sometimes, I think of ‘him’ – a little golden-haired baby – a precocious toddler.  It’s the boy I can imagine more – I picture a mirror image of his daddy – the pictures I have of my husband as a baby or toddler fueling my imagination.

The baby  would be two this year.  Two.  Not a baby anymore.  A child – toddler – running around asking why a million times a day…

My life would have been drastically different.

The other hard part – that while I wish with everything I have that I could have that baby – I also am glad we had more time as a couple.  We would have loved the baby – but two years ago we weren’t ready – it would have been more difficult – a strain.

And, how horrible is that… to be glad of that?  It’s as if I’m saying I’m glad that baby was never born.  The baby I try so hard to picture – but whose face eludes me.  The baby I never knew – and yet miss all the time.

The baby that now will always be a baby to me.. Never a toddler, child or teenager… just a faceless, nameless baby.

But still my baby.

A confession…

I have a confession to make.  I feel unsure about saying this out loud on here – fear of shame and shunning, I guess.  But, this is my little corner, so, here goes it…

We want a girl.

For a firstborn.

My husband, especially, is determined (and very very hopeful) that we have a girl first.  And, for the second, he would like either a girl or boy.

To clarify: we would absolutely be head over heels in love with a son OR daughter.  But, if we had a choice, we would want to have a girl first.

So, is it wrong to try and tip the scales in our favor?