I have felt since pregnant with Little Sis that another boy would be coming to our family. HH was not excited to have another baby, and since Little Sis was only a little over a year, I was fine not talking about it for at least another year myself. No rush, no pressure.
While in the kitchen one day I felt the Holy Ghost telling me there was heavenly instruction waiting for my listening ears, so I got down on my knees right there and opened the line of communication. The instruction was that we were to have another baby, it would be a boy, and I was even told what to name the baby. Wow. "Okay," I said, "my husband won't be terribly excited, but he's an obedient man so we'll do it." As a couple, we have the amazing ability to get pregnant whenever we want to, so whatever number of weeks later I find I am expecting baby #5. Little Sis in only 14 months old at this point in the story, making children #4 and 5 a destined 23 months apart. All righty, I'm done having kids at 32 I guess. Sounds good to me!
Weeks go by, I get bigger, tummy starts showing, I finally have my ultrasound at 21 weeks, when the good insurance coverage kicks in. HH came with me, of course, but stepped out of the waiting room to grab a bite to eat before we were called back to get the ultrasound. Poor man hadn't eaten all morning, and he was up and at them early. The ultrasound tech calls me back while HH is still getting food, so we go back to the room and get started. Good ol' American efficiency for you. She asks if we want to know the gender and I say yes please. The warm goop is barely on my tummy with her magic wand looking through my innards to the little life inside of me and she declares, "It's a girl!" Excuse me? This lady has been doing this for years, so I don't doubt her capability and know-how in the least. I was mentally and emotionally knocked off my feet, and HH is still getting his food. The tech declares, "We won't tell him yet," and goes through the routine. He comes in a few minutes later, banana in hand, and we all settle down to watch the grainy black and white screen show me all sorts of angles and organs and other amazing things about my baby. I can see the four chambers of
As one bro-in-law of mine would say, "What the junk?" The day was hard for me. Am I really that bad at receiving personal revelation? Is heaven deceiving me or playing a trick on me? I certainly would not provide my own revelation with such detail when I wasn't looking to get pregnant again so soon. I feel awful telling you this, but as HH and I were heading down in the elevator I actually said, "I don't want another girl." Oh, the look he gave me. It was just that for the last four months I was so excited for Little Man to have a brother who was not too much younger than he. I adore my Little Man (as I do my girls), and wanted a bit more male energy in the house. They were going to share a room in the small house we are moving into. I was going to pass all the clothes on to him. It was all perfect!
As the day wore on, I prayed many times for peace and understanding. Some peace came, not much understanding, but I am happy now to have another girl. It just took me about five hours to acclimate to the idea of it. I am a fourth daughter, a somewhat unwanted one as well, so I will know a bit of what this little daughter of ours will experience. (Amy and Marisa, I say "unwanted" tongue in cheek because in Marisa's baby book Mom wrote that after Marisa arrived, one of our parents said to the other, "Well, maybe next time," indicating they were hoping to have a boy. Instead they got me.)
There is a 5% sliver of hope that the ultrasound was incorrect and that she is really a he, but it was very clear that no manhood was lurking in the necessary vicinity. Those views were wide open.
And so we consider names for our little girl whom we love. Sariah and Diana are two that I'm considering. We won't pick a name until after she is born. I usually like to see my babies before naming them. Ha! We didn't choose Middle Sis's name until they brought us the paperwork and we had to choose. Good times, good times.