My man and I decided not to find out our baby's gender. We decided that there aren't enough fun surprises in life. We've had a couple people tell us that they think that the chance to find out there babies' genders got them (well, the mother) through labor, and I have a feeling that the more sources of motivation I can find during labor, the better off I'll be. I think Sean is also hoping that holding out on finding out will strengthen my willpower and make me stop pestering him about birthday and Christmas presents three weeks early (that's not going to happen). Besides, too much pink makes me want to vomit and I don't understand why boys' clothes are stamped with anything that has an internal combustion engine. I'd like to hold off on the flood of princess-wear or truck-emblazoned gear as long as I can.
That said, we've got inklings about the gender. I, for some reason, lean slightly toward boy, and my husband leans slightly toward girl. My leaning is pretty fickle: I had a dream one night that it was a girl, and, for some reason, I did not trust the male doctor in my dream and made him re-check about five times. Then I left the baby on the top of the car while I was at the grocery store getting wasabi peas, so I've decided that dream was pretty meaningless.
Just for fun, here's my baby's gender, according to various old wives' tales:
Heartbeat over 140 = girl. Our baby's heart rate started at 160-something, and recently it's been 140 on the dot. So we're having a girl who has changed in to a boy halfway through the pregnancy.
Supposedly, girls "steal their mother's beauty". Yeah, that one is a great set-up for a healthy mother-daughter relationship. My husband says I look pretty cute, and he denies that my butt has gotten any bigger, though it sure seems bigger to me. He may just be saying that to avoid throwing off the balance of my delicate pregnant temperament and making me upset or angry, but I'll take his word for it on this one. Since I have basically the same amount of beauty as before, albeit with a few more zits, it's a boy.
If you crave sweet things, it's a girl. Well, I crave jalapenos and I'm more interested in meat then before, but only mildly. I don't know if the jalapeno is the opposite of sweet, but I guess that means boy.
Carrying high means it's a boy, and carrying low means it's a girl. I'm 5'2". There is no high and low when you're that short; there's just belly. I am going to say that means I'm carrying low, since I'm close to the ground, and since it seems about time for one of these to come up with girl as the answer.
You gain more weight with boys. Or you gain more weight with girls. I've heard both, and I have nothing with which to compare my weight gain, so this one's a wash. I'm gaining weight; it's clearly a baby.
If your feet are colder, it's a boy. My feet are hotter than hades, so it's a girl.
If you don't like orange juice, it's a boy. I've never liked OJ much, or any juice for that matter. I guess this is a boy, and I'll only have boys if my juice dislike keeps up for the rest of my life.
If you have morning sickness, it's a girl. I had my fair share of vomit, so that means this one's a girl.
Having headaches means boy, and I've gotten a few those. Also, the sum of my age at the time of conception and the month of conception is even, so it will be a boy.
If your pee is dull, it's a girl; if it's bright yellow, it's a boy. I don't really want to study the brightness of my pee and, besides, I drink a lot of water. If it were really bright, I think it would freak me out and it would be time to call the doctor. So, I'll say girl.
I have about four old wives' tales for boy, and four for a girl, with a couple undecided, which leads me to the very unscientific result of....it's a baby!
