So our 20 week appointment is rapidly approaching, which means we could find out the gender of Baby C2, but as you all know, we most certainly won’t. It’s super fun to have zero idea; we’ve got our boy and girl names picked out (sort of) and we have a decent amount of gender neutral infant stuff from Baby C1 (you now know him as Miles) so we are as prepared as any parents of a newborn and soon-to-be two-year-old can be (you know, like not prepared at all because HELLO WE WILL NOW HAVE TWO KIDS).
I remember when I was pregnant with Miles, everyone had a guess at what we were having. The most popular guess was a boy, and everyone had their own Old Wive’s Tale method of determining. I also remember our 20 week appointment with Miles; the ultrasound tech had us look away while she did the gender scan, and she jotted all of the important measurements and sciencey things in our folder, but she did not list the gender. Even our midwife didn’t know what we were having, but she did guess it would be a boy, and she was right.
I can also vividly remember the day Miles was born (so vivid because no drugs and everything was felt in real-time and THAT, my friends, is the business) and that last set of three big pushes. I told Evan that I was too tired to deliver this baby. I saw my midwife peer up from my lady bits and she said, “ONE MORE PUSH!” I pushed. I pushed pushed pushed and was so r-e-a-d-y to have this kid out when she suddenly said, “OKAY, NOW STOP!”
Excuse me, stop? STOP? Hello, there is a 7lb 11oz child halfway out of my baby hole right now, and I’d like to get it all the way OUT. But I stopped.
She then asked Evan to come around, because she wanted him to be the first to know whether we’d had a boy or a girl. It was very, very cool. I was still very, very tired, but so glad that she made that possible for Evan. To see his face when he got to announce, “IT’S A BOY!” is amazing beyond comprehension.
And here we are, halfway through our second pregnancy, ready for our appointment but not ready to know what we’re having because we want to save that magic for the day of delivery. But that doesn’t stop me from consulting Dr. Google on every Old Wives Tale there is and testing them on my own. Enjoy the craziness…
Heart Rate: Old wives tale is that 140bpm and higher indicates a girl, and lower indicates a boy. I will say that with Miles, we did go above 140bpm maybe twice? (sads, I don’t actually remember and I never wrote it down) but I think I recall it being lower the majority of the pregnancy. Now this method is really supposed to be more accurate once you near the end of your pregnancy, but we’ll go ahead and apply it now just for fun. Our last appointment was 127bpm. Dr. Google says BOY.
Cravings: Next old wives tale says that if you’re having a girl you crave things that are sweet, and if you’re having a boy you’ll crave things that are salty or sour. The reasoning behind this is that girls are full of “sugar and spice and everything nice” and that boys are full of “lizards and snails and puppy dogs tails.” Note: Whoever came up with that description is a.) a jerk, because boys are totally awesome and b.) has never seen Mean Girls because there are many, many other things girls are full of that we will not discuss here. Also, are lizards and snails salty? I don’t know. Anyway, when I was pregnant with Miles I had a full week where I craved nothing but barbecue, and so we ate at a rib place in town almost every single day. But barbecue is really sweet and salty. What else did I crave with Miles? Orange Pedialyte. I’m weird. In general, I am more of a salty person. More specifically, I am a potato chip person which is why we have none in the house. Case in point: two weeks ago, I craved maple bacon potato chips (again with the sweet-salty) and guess how many days it took me to consume the entire eight serving bag? TWO. TWO DAYS. I am a potato chip powerhouse. I also had an enormous craving for jalapeno potato chips, which are spicy, so figure that one out. And I like to put Nutella on Ritz crackers. But based on my potato chip love, Dr. Google says BOY.
Zits: So if you break out like a pre-pubescent teenager, you’re supposedly having a girl because she’s “stealing all of your beauty” and if your skin remains clear, you’re having a boy because again, boys aren’t “beautiful” (note: you Old Wives make all babies sound like assholes, okay?) I will say this, not only did I never have acne when I was pregnant with Miles, but I also believe he was the most beautifully handsome and adorable newborn ever in the history of time and space. Case in point:
No pimples this time around, either. Dr. Google says BOY.
Morning sickness: If you have the pukes, those bitter, baby-hating Old Wives say you’re having a girl (again with the beauty stealing, because obviously you don’t look good when you have pukeface). So when I was pregnant with Miles, the only puking I did was for three straight days during the second trimester when I came down with the stomach flu (note: it actually came out of all holes, so I can’t say it was just puke). I don’t count that as morning sickness. Was I nauseous sometimes? A little I think, but not enough to make a lasting impression. Now, this time around I never had morning suckness (typo, but it stays) but but but, if I drank coffee at all during the first few weeks, I’d throw it up. Does that count? I also felt nauseous for entire days, enough so that I remember it now. I started drinking coffee again around week 10 (settle down, it’s one cup and it’s midwife approved – you know we’re very Euro, right?) with no pukeface. So I don’t know if that counts as morning sickness, but let’s say it’s more memorable nausea than the first time around. Dr. Google says GIRL.
How you’re carrying: Well, I’m not big enough to judge this, because I’m not even big enough for people to actually know I’m pregnant, they still think I’m just thickity thick in the middle. But with Miles, I carried low low low and all out front (like from behind, you couldn’t tell I was preg, except when I walked because I waddled, thanks hemorrhoids and gravity). Eventually I’ll look preg this time around, so we’ll guess then. Dr Google says TBD.
Ring on a string: The Old Wives say if you put your wedding ring on a string and hang it over your belly, swinging in circles means boy and swinging back and forth means girl. To this I say: awfully presumptuous of you biddies to assume couples with children are a.) married and b.) have wedding rings, but that’s just my socially liberal mind coming out, so I’ll put a cork in it. I am married, and I do have a ring, so we tested this. I can’t remember doing this with Miles, but I think other people did, and I honestly don’t remember the outcome. With Baby C2, it sort of swung diagonally back and forth. Science tells me it has to do with gravity and the way I’m holding my arm, but Dr. Google says GIRL.
Dad gaining weight: Supposedly, if Dad gains weight during the pregnancy, it’s a girl. To that I say, bull. Dad doesn’t gain weight out of sympathy; he gains weight because I am force-feeding him Dairy Queen so that I don’t feel guilty for eating a Brownie Earthquake Explosion every Friday night. Did Evan gain weight when we were pregnant with Miles? Yes. Will he gain with this baby? I don’t know; he doesn’t like potato chips, but he likes ice cream, so we’ll see. Right now he’s gained nothing (jerk) and Dr. Google says BOY.
Peeing in a cup of Drano: Did you know this was a thing? Me either. It sounds weird and dangerous. I’ve seen the commercials, and I know this stuff can unclog a drain after Chewbacca uses your shower. Based on that, I don’t want Drano anywhere near my baby hole. So we’re going to pass on this, but apparently some genius did this and found if the Drano turns green it’s a girl, and if it stays blue it’s a boy. Dr. Google says PASS.
Sprinkling salt on your head: Again, news to me. These Old Wives think that if you sprinkle salt on your head before you go to sleep, the first name that comes out of your mouth the next morning will determine the gender of your baby. So when I wake up and say “BLUEBERRY WAFFLE WITH AMERICAN CHEESE” I suppose it means Baby C2 will be a chef. I’m not sprinkling salt on my head. Dr. Google says PASS.
And now for the most sciencey determination process we will be using without actually using real science: THE CHINESE BIRTH CALENDAR. You enter your due date and your own birth date, and the Chinese tell you what you’re having based on their lunar calendar. You should know that their lunar calendar also says we conceived Baby C2 in December and my lunar age was 33. So, thanks Lunar China for not only confusing me but also making me far older than I actually am. For fun, I did the Chinese prediction for Miles, and guess what it said? He would be a boy. Way to go, Lunar China! You were right! Now the oldest due dates you can choose (via BabyCenter, which is full of accuracy and not lunatics) is for the year 2006. People who read this: if your baby was due in 2006 and later, please consult Lunar China and tell me if they were right. For Baby C2, Lunar China says we’re having a BOY.
Now let’s tally it all up: five votes for BOY, two votes for GIRL, and one million votes for keeping salt off your head and Drano out of your vagina.
The Chinese say BOY, and we know how smart they are, so let’s say boy. This means it will surely be a girl. Either way, we’re happy (unless it’s kittens…because I’ve had a dream…) Won’t it be fun to find out it another 20ish weeks? Assuming punctuality for this child, which will probably not occur since Miles was one week late. He also spent that entire last week head-butting my vagina and making me pee myself. Note: I have used the phrase “vagina” so many times in this post that I’m surely turning up in some creepy Google searches. Will check those stats later…