Finding Out the Gender

We know what the gender of our baby will be.

We think.

Let me explain…

I am a reporter by nature, so I like to know everything before anyone else does. Obviously, given a choice, I am going to want to know if it is a boy or a girl. Plus it makes the planning much easier. I admire people who can wait nine months, but it is not me. If I am taking a trip, I want to know the train schedule ahead of time.

Who is worse than me with surprises? My wife. This is a woman who introduced me to the concept of telling people what you want for Christmas. I always assumed everyone tried to surprise their family and friends with a gift that was just right for them. (Although I will admit to at times shopping on Christmas Eve in I-71 gas stations as I traveled north for my family Christmas.) Her family takes all the surprise out by simply saying, “Buy me a Ke$ha CD for Christmas.”

Heck, she even wanted to shop for her own engagement ring. Being the highly romantic guy that I am, I wanted the whole “Will you marry me?” thing to be a surprise.

(By the way, I not only bought the perfect engagement ring myself, but my popping of the question was indeed a grand affair I am quite proud of. Feel free to ask her to tell the story sometime.)

So, between the two of us, there was never any argument as to whether we would find out the gender. But, my wife somehow cooked up a way to learn it even earlier than we planned.

There is a spa-like place in the community of Mason, just outside Cincinnati, that specializes in moms-to-be. Becoming Mom offers maternity clothes, massages, skin care, nail services, the ever popular “waxing,” and, finally, ultrasounds to determine the gender of your child.

A friend of Brooke’s told her about it and from that minute on, she was working me for a visit.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to know before Christmas? What a gift that would be.” Or, “Your mom is coming down in December and it would be great to take her so she can be a part of the experience.”

Yeah, she played the mom card on me.  

While we could wait another month and get this info from the doctor for free, I agreed to pay $70 – we had a coupon. My wife has a coupon for EVERYTHING! – and get it early.

My main concern was that we would get the wrong information. Brooke assured me they would get it right – after all, they guarantee to give you your money back if they are wrong.

Well, of course.

How’s that for a business model? I don’t know what an ultrasound machine costs, but I could buy one, charge parents $100 a pop, guess at the gender and make some dough. Even if I am wrong half the time, it is all profit.

(Forget what I said. As I am writing this, I looked up the price of an ultrasound machine. $135,000 freaking dollars! We wonder why health insurance is so expensive – medical equipment companies, doctors, hospitals – they are all marking things up thousands of percent and lining their pockets.

It would be easier for me to pass myself off as some sort of supernatural belly reader. No upfront investment and all profit. You pay me $100. I rub my hands over your belly and a gender pops into my head. If I am wrong, I give you your money back. If I am right, I am one Ben Franklin richer.)

Despite my concern about accuracy, we forged ahead. We showed up on a Saturday morning -- mom, dad and Sydney -- eagerly anticipating word of whether Sydney would have a little brother or sister.

Now, despite my declaration pre-Sydney that I 51% wanted a boy, this time around I really did not have a preference. My experience with Sydney has been so positive I would happily welcome another daughter into the fold. In fact, I feel a little like “I’ve got this,” when it comes to raising a girl, while a boy would be a whole new world to me. I’m especially worried about whether it would require more energy than an old geezer like me – two months away from my 47^th birthday when the baby is born – has to give. 

At the same time, I like the symmetry of a son. And there are things a son brings to your life that are different from a daughter. Part of me wants to experience those, too.

So, I really, truly had no preference as we passed through the “waxing” department and made our way to the ultrasound room of Becoming Mom.   

The place was nice. They escort you into a little room that is very clean and family friendly. Toys for Sydney, lounge chairs for daddy and a comfortable table for mommy. They dimmed the lights for a calming effect. It felt warm.

It did not calm Sydney, however, as she roamed around the room Gangnam Style while the technician lubed up her mother’s belly in preparation. In fact, the whole time the supernatural belly reader, I mean, ultrasound technician, was rubbing the magic wand over mom’s belly, daddy was chasing Sydney around the room, trying to get her to stay away from breakable items.

In the middle of my quest, we heard the heartbeat. Always a nice moment, even if Sydney was babbling over it. 

A few minutes later, the technician pointed to a tiny spot on the screen and said we were having…

A boy.

Yes.

A boy.

Now, this is where the “we think” part comes in. To be completely assured I am having a boy, I would have to wholeheartedly trust that this ultrasound technician is indeed an ultrasound technician – I didn’t see any license hanging on the wall – and that she really knows what she is doing. That little spot she pointed to was not distinguishable to me. These ultrasounds are all Rorschach blots to me. That spot could have been an elbow or a nose and I would not have been able to tell the difference.

Plus, I have a Fantasy Football team called the Big Anacondas after a nickname I have acquired over the years. So I was expecting the “spot” to be a bit larger than it was.

Ok, maybe it is a self-given nickname.

My wife, however, was sure. She said she knew before the technician knew.

I trust my wife more than I trust the technician. She had a gut feeling going in that it was a boy. She accurately predicted a girl with Sydney. She is the real-life supernatural belly reader.

So, I am having a boy. The perfect family gets more perfect.

I am one lucky man. I get to experience the joy of bringing up both a son and a daughter. I am blessed beyond anything I ever expected in my life.

Am I worried? Sure. There are more sleepless nights ahead. I have no idea how I will afford the bigger house. When it’s time to teach him how to turn the double play or post someone up under the basket or throw the perfect spiral, I’ll be in my late 50s, with a bad back and creaky knees.

But I now will have two children who give me a reason to get up in the morning. I’ll have laughter echoing through my home. I’ll have tea parties to attend and football games to watch. I’ll have double the hugs and kisses.

Being a dad has been the greatest experience of my life. Now, I get the pleasure of doing it again.

I can’t wait to meet my son.