My latest pregnancy post on HerDaily.com, in case you missed it —
We were simply sitting on the couch, watching TV. The Husband turned to me, smiled and said “I love you.”
Tearing up, I told him I loved him too.
He started to laugh. “Are you going to cry? Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know. Because I’m happy. I don’t know. I’m having a rough week.”
“Buddy, you’re having a rough pregnancy,” he said as he gave me a hug.
He was right. I knew that my hormones would be all over the place while pregnant. And I’m a pretty emotional person to begin with. But I just never made the connection; never assumed that I’d be one of those pregnant ladies, crying several times a day. Crying ateverything.
I’ve cried because I told the dog he smelled but then felt sad that I hurt his feelings.
I’ve cried while watching a woman deliver her surrogate baby (which was really hers) on a soap opera.
I’ve cried because the sheets didn’t fit our bed the right way.
I’ve cried because I wanted to eat a red apple and all we had were green apples.
I’ve cried because I was happy to see my husband come home after a long day at work.
I’ve cried because raw chicken now makes me throw up and so I felt guilty that I couldn’t cook dinner.
I’ve cried because, while at a festival, a woman told me that fresh lemonade was $4 — which was the exact amount of cash I had on me. But then I found out that it was really $5, so no lemonade for me.
I’ve cried because I wanted to have Pizza Hut breadsticks and salad bar for dinner, but ours was closed. To settle me down, The Husband drove to another Pizza Hut — but that one was closed, too. (Plan = backfired.)
I’ve cried as I was unpacking groceries because I realized that the mini-muffins I just bought had an expiration date of two weeks and I thought that the grocery store was trying to pull a fast one on me.
There are times when I suddenly feel a surge of emotion — either sorrow or elation, and begin to cry. Nothing has prompted these moments. They simply are. And that’s hard to explain to my husband, who is very proactive. If I’m crying because I want a red apple and we only have green, he’ll offer to go out and buy me a red apple. He’ll drive to all of the Pizza Huts in a fifty mile radius. But when there’s nothing to fix, he feels a bit lost. Luckily, we’ve both realized that all I need is a long hug and the tears will soon pass.
I hope that same tactic can be used on our daughter.
Did you miss the 21 week update I posted on HerDaily.com last week? If so:
Before we were even pregnant, The Husband had a very strong stance on finding out whether or not he was going to have a boy or a girl — and his stance was absolutely not. Ever. Never, ever.
I, on the other hand, am one with little patience. I had ventured into the unknown, unprepared. However, I decided that if not knowing was that important to him, then I would get on board with it. Eventually, I did.
So, naturally, approximately ten minutes after telling The Husband I was pregnant, he responded with, “Ok, so we’ll definitely find out what it is as soon as we can so that it’ll be easier to plan…”
He didn’t have to twist my arm. I was quickly on board.
We spent weeks throwing out names and debating the gender. Right away, The Husband was Team Girl. On the other hand, I was absolutely positive it was a boy. Usually, I have great intuition, so I was confident that I was correct. The problem was our name selections. We came up with our girl name the night we found out we were pregnant. I threw out a first name, he threw out a middle name and we were in love. We came up with a couple of runners-up, but our first name was pretty solid. It was a boy’s name that was giving us trouble.
Right away, we both knew we didn’t want anything trendy. No Aidens, Braydens or Caydens in this family. We wanted something strong and traditional. The problem was that idea was that no name really jumped out at us. Every other day, it seemed, one of us would look at the other and randomly announce “OK, this week “X” is my top boy name. What about you?”
While we tried hard to wittle down our list of names, we became anxious waiting to find out for sure if we even needed to bother thinking of a boy name. One evening, we Googled old wives’ pregnancy gender tales. And then proceeded to try/answer them all.
Craving sweets? It’s a girl. Salty? It’s a boy: Sweets – girl
Chinese astrology chart, taking into considertaion my age and the month baby was conceived: Girl
Clear skin? A boy. Breaking out (stealing mom’s beauty)? A girl: Girl
If dad is having weird cravings, too, then it’s a girl: Yes, he is. Girl
If you have morning sickness, it’s a girl: Horrible morning sickness. Girl
A heartbeat above 140 is a girl: Heartbeat always hovering around 160. Girl
If you’re moody, it’s a girl. If you’re happy, it’s a boy: Mood swings like you wouldn’t believe. Girl.
The baking soda test: No fizzing. Girl.
At this point, I started to waver in my faith that it was a boy. Other than my insistance, nothing pointed to boy. I started daydreaming of a precious little girl, with our perfect name. If we went into that ultrasound and found out that the baby had the same anatomy as its daddy, I planned on suing all the old wives — all of them — for misleading a consumer.
It turned out no lawsuits were necessary.
We’re having a little girl.
We’re going to have a daughter.
Turns out those old ladies knew what they’re talking about.