The big news

My facebook friends may already know, but for the rest of you, I’m keeping you in suspense. I went to get my first (and hopefully only) ultrasound on Thursday. Everything looked great with the baby, placenta, umbilical cord, etc. I was extremely relieved because I’ve been having this weird feeling that *something* is going to go wrong and for some reason that translated to me as “you’re going to have placenta previa and need a c-section.” Not so! I practically danced out of the room I was so relieved and happy. I know there are still things that can go wrong, but I’m not worried anymore and have my “protective bubble” tight around me now. No bad thoughts will enter in here!

The technician was able to find out the gender and I had her write it down and seal it in an envelope. She didn’t tell me (or Kevin who was with me) what it was.

A little background: the gender lines have been clearly drawn in our household, with the boys wanting a boy, and Hannah wanting a girl. But Hannah REALLY wants a sister, and the boys want a boy mostly because it’s expected that they should want another boy. As for me, I have felt there is another girl for our family, ever since I found out Kevin was a boy. I’ve always assumed this would be a girl, born in the same month (or close to it at least) as our other girl. I have saved most of our girl stuff, while liberally giving away most of our boy stuff when we moved here. You see where this is going, don't you? John was kind of hoping for a girl, though he didn't say anything about it to the kids. Hannah had worked herself into a frenzy, making pictures of me holding a baby girl, talking to the baby and telling it to be a girl “PLEASE!” and yesterday she told all her friends we were finding out the gender and they all made her cards saying “Good luck!” or “Congratulations I hope it’s a girl!” I love my four sisters (heck I share a house with one), and I couldn’t imagine life without ANY of them. I really wanted a sister for Hannah, though I knew she eventually might regret having a pesky little sis getting into all her stuff. After my miscarriage last summer, Hannah cried and asked if that was “the girl baby” that died. It was just heart-breaking, I was as sad for her as I was for myself.

So when John got home, we hurried him through dinner so we could open the envelope. Should we take video of us opening it? I said no, because if it’s a boy, there will be some weeping and wailing that might hurt the future Sapp’s feelings (but a little voice in my head said, wouldn’t it be precious to have her reaction on video if it is a girl—luckily I ignored that voice). Hannah was dancing around the room, dizzy with excitement. I opened the envelope and read aloud “It’s a boy!” with as much happiness as I dared. She immediately started sobbing, wailing, crying—her face was filled with anguish. It made me start crying too. I held her and tried to comfort her but she was literally inconsolable. I talked to her about how much we’ll love this baby, even though it’s a boy. I told her I was sorry and I was hoping for a girl too. Still crying. John said there’s not much difference between boys and girls when they’re babies anyway. And Hannah replied “But when it grows up it will STILL be a boy and I’ll have ALL BOYS in my family, WAHHHH! I will NEVER have a sister now! WAHHHH!” Yeah, she knows that this is her last shot because I’m done after this baby.

I talked to her about names, said she needs to help me pick out a name. Still sobbing. Then I said, “Hannah, I need your help. Do you remember what Dad wants to name a boy?” She slowed her sobbing and nodded. John wants to use an old family name, I think it’s German. The name is Topliff. Ewww. We fought about it a lot a few months ago until I finally said let’s put our arguments aside until we know the gender, thinking it would be a moot point anyway since we’re having a girl. So I continued to Hannah with a low urgent voice, “You have GOT to help me talk Dad out of that name. I do NOT like that name.” She stopped crying and said vehemently “Me neither!” John came to sit by us at that point and she told him that it was her job to not let him name the baby Topliff. He thought that was pretty funny. She was still in the post-crying hiccupping stage, but John called his sister and let Hannah talk to her. “Well, Aunt Renee, it’s a boy” with dripping disdain. Poor Renee had the same problem in her family but not only does she have 2 younger brothers, but THREE. She told Hannah how sad she was when John and their other brother were born. She told some funny stories that actually made her LAUGH. The crisis was over. I hope she will be happy, I know she’ll be a great big sister again. My reaction: I’m sad for Hannah, but happy for me because my boys have been relatively easy once they can walk. My girl has gotten harder as she gets older, which I imagine will continue into pre-teen and teenage years. Do I still feel there is still a girl waiting for our family? Ask me again in a year or so. But don’t get your hopes up.