My belly has outed me to the general public. Perfect strangers now suddenly feel comfortable engaging me in pregnancy chit-chat; and I’ll let you in on a little secret: I LOVE it!
People now know I’m cradling this precious life inside me and their recognition makes me feel special and understood; respected even. There’s just one little thing. The following conversation occurs at least four times a day:
STRANGER: So do you know boy or girl yet?
ME: We find out next week!
STRANGER: Oh, you should wait.
Um, I’m sorry… have we met?
Right…stupid question – you’re a stranger.
Well, if you DID know me you’d know how ridiculous you sound right now.
I literally choreographed my last dinner party.
I pre-decorated my home two months before I even moved in.
I once drew a to-scale blueprint of my cubicle to decide how best to arrange my desk, okay?
Wait to find out the sex of my baby? Are you crazy?!
There’s a registry to assemble. There’s a room to adorn. I’m facing the biggest change of my entire life and you’re asking me not to prepare. In short, you’re a loony tune.
That said, I completely respect couples who wait. I truly admire their patience and spontaneity. I just can’t do it. For me this isn’t about wanting to know…it’s about needing to.
I am someone who craves order and there’s nothing more disorderly than a newborn. That’s why I feel the intense compulsion to line everything else up before this messy little miracle arrives.
So come next Wednesday, I’ll be busy choosing a gender-specific inspiration room and adding the appropriately colored bedding to my registry. As for you strangers, you all can leave your judgement at my masterfully coordinated door.
No – not that door…
*Sigh* --- here, I’ll show you.