Tuesday, May 10, 2016


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… 

THAT door!

*Sigh* --- here, I’ll show you.

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