Today I got to see a sweet little thing who is way more than a thing.
I got to see the baby's mouth open and close, open and close. I got to see the baby thumb sucking away. I got to see the baby kick, jump, run - okay, not those last two, but it felt like jumping and running since I wasn't used to feeling the baby move so much during the day.
Poor Chris had to stay in the waiting room with two very energetic boys because I somehow failed to know of the office policy that children are not allowed in the ultrasound room even with both parents until the very end. I'm thankful the boys got to see the baby at the end! Ryan was very excited with eyes lit up and lots of questions, and Conor was unmoved, but hey he points at my knees and says, "Baby!" so we will give him a pass for not recognizing his new baby brother or sister.
I let the technician know approximately 777 times that we did not want to know if the baby was a boy or girl. She was shocked that I hoped this wasn't our last baby so it was more than okay if we had another boy, and she was shocked that I didn't want to find out. Other than a few quick passing, tempting thoughts of possibly knowing right at this second if our baby was a son or daughter, any true, lingering desire to know can't be found. This is our time to love this life as Baby. Just Baby. To add to it, two of my most treasured cherry-on-top memories are from when I was already entirely spent, yet already utterly joyful and then my husband told me we had a son and then another son less than two years later. Son or daughter, it is joy topping joy. What a memory sundae that is. I don't know if I could willingly take that third memory away from us.
But, even though I am staunchly staying in my tent in the do not find out camp, I am incredibly impatient when my friends and family are pregnant and love when they find out. I really love it. I mean, come on. Mary knew Jesus was a boy! So if you find out, I think you are in better company than I am in, huh?