I don't think I've ever been so anxious to find out the gender of a baby. I'm not sure if it's because I already have three girls running around, because I'm kind of bored with this snow and would like to get busy preparing, because my back is acting up more than the other pregnancies and knowing who's coming might make the wait feel a little more worth the pain?
The ultrasound is scheduled for Thursday. We're bringing Mia along- who seems just as excited as I am to find out what is in there exactly. Maybe her excitement is just rubbing off on me.
The other day she was trying to come up with names. When all she could think of were names of her siblings and friends, she said "maybe you'd better name it, mom."
Choosing a name, on the other hand, is something I'm not looking forward to at all. We spend so much time on it- and always realize that whether or not we like a name can vary depending on the day. Zach was completely against "Anya" when I first mentioned it. The next time I brought it up, he was all over it. And then, a few months after they were born, he kept wondering to me if we named them wrong- if Bree should really be Anya and vice-versa.
Sometimes I catch myself looking at them and wondering "Are you really a Mia? Did I choose right? How on earth was I supposed to know what you'd be like from day one?"
Maybe we'll be those weird parents who let their kid choose their own name when they're five. Just call it "baby" until it decides it wants to be called "Peek-a-boo." We'll just change the spelling so it seems more like a real name.