Over a week ago we found out the sex of our third baby. The baby was moving around constantly which meant the sonographer found it really tricky to get all of the measurements. About half way through the scan I looked across the screen and said loudly: “Look Jared – it’s a boy!”. I must have looked at exactly the right moment – the baby’s legs were open and there was definitely something there! I asked the sonographer and she confirmed that’s what she thought too.
I’ve taken a good few days to write about it, because I’ve felt really overwhelmed at the thought of being a parent for a third time. Not in a bad or good way, but because being a parent is such a huge responsibility. A responsibility that is serious and one that Jared and I have talked a lot about this week. We’ve had a chance to re-evaluate our priorities, glean from experiences with our own parents, talk about what we truly want for them, and how we can encourage them not only to be happy, but resilient too. The pressure can really build up if I let it, but the difference this time is that we are going to be outnumbered.
For as long as I can remember I have imagined having just boys – they seem to suit me. Since I became pregnant for the third time I have imagined three boys sitting in the bath tub instead of two, three boys out on scooters and out walking. Whenever I have imagined my future family (even as a teenager) it has never included a girl. I know anything can happen, but each time I’ve discovered I am pregnant with a boy it has made complete sense. It has felt natural, and this time a sense of familiarity washed over me – I may go even as far and say it was relief, which isn’t what I expected to feel at all. I instantly started to imagine his face – would he look more like Win or Ru? What will we call him? Would he have blonde hair too? What characteristics will he have? What will he teach us? and what new things can we teach him? All of these questions and many more have consumed my thoughts since last Monday.
I have always had a strong feeling that I’m meant to be part of my family and that I belong. It’s something that has always been there – that my ten siblings and I are meant to be together; to learn from each other and to help each other grow. That is why it is so important that we spend lots of time together – particularly now we live apart. It is something I feel absolutely with my own children – each of them has been sent to us for a reason, so we can teach them, but more importantly so they can teach us. I know that sounds a little selfish.
I admire people that don’t find out the sex of their baby, but I just have to know. It helps an abstract person become real, and fantasising about their personality and looks brings me pure joy in pregnancy. We saw his arms, his legs, his heart pumping away and we can start narrowing down names, plus, I am not one for surprises in any shape or form (unless you’ve told me it is coming).
We went home to tell the boys our news, which went down like a lead balloon! Ru obviously didn’t have a clue, but Win insists he wants a sister and that he will find a way of changing it before it comes out. Good luck with that one!
A lovely baby boy will be joining us in March, and I can’t wait.