Perhaps the hardest part is that we've been getting conflicting advice for the most part. Fat distribution and the internet quizzes have said one thing, the Chinese New Year told us another. The muffin-tin liners have been very clear to us so far, though, tonight.
It will be a boy.
Unless it ends up being a girl.
We're half-way along at this point and realize that a great many parents-to-be would have already found out and begun purchasing all the appropriately colored accessories and essentials. Call us hippies, call us cheap, call us adventurous, call us boring; I just don't feel that my soon-to-be baby is going to care if it has pink, blue or Daffy Duck on its butt for the first year of its life. I know I won't care. Here is the only thing that will be going through my mind..."Five times tonight already and it's only 3am?? I hope we have enough laundry detergent, honey."
Don't get me wrong, I am actually very excited. The first thing I did when I found out...the second thing I did when I found out was I started my research on how birthing works and what a father does. Fortunately, Dr. Bill Cosby created a pseudo-guide back in 1983 based on his own experience (Bill Cosby: Himself). It seems that I've got some practicing to do before I'm very proficient.
Sadly, pregnancy has led us back to a chronic argument in our relationship. As I've said before, we regularly quibble about who's job it is to work. Or rather, how to work out who gets a job. It isn't really working though because we end up going back and forth: not in terms of who is right or wrong, but in terms of who gets to stay home and who gets to work. Lately we've had some interesting career prospects that have excited us both for the working world and spiced up the argument.
Naturally the baby has already had its first success at instigating a parental argument, and we've reversed course and have come back to both wanting to stay home with the kid. As I said earlier, it's a chronic argument and we realize it. I expect that about 35 diapers into the domestic role, we'll both be back to wanting to work again. That's what the compass-technique revealed to us, anyway.
