Our anticlimactic gender reveal

So, there was that time that my wonderful husband convinced me not to find out the gender of our third baby.  I mean, okay, if I'm being completely honest, the whole stupid thing was technically my idea... but then I dearly wanted to chicken out and it was too late, he was already invested.

Despite not knowing for sure what was or wasn't between baby's legs, I don't think I kept my conviction that we were expecting a girl to myself.  I may or may not have even gone so far as to purchase this little gem for the baby's room based on that intuition. 

In July.  WHAT?!  We had 90 days to return it, and I was only a month out... it was fine!  

We never, ever had a boy name.  Nope, not even one.  

I got all my girl clothes back from Jessica, but never bothered to get the boy clothes back from my sister - though I did pack a girl and boy newborn outfit in my hospital bag because, well, that's just good sense.

It was a thing.  I was having a girl.

People - my mother chief among them - kept asking me what I was going to do if it was a boy.  I wanted to very sarcastically tell them that obviously if it was a boy I'd be so disappointed I would insist on returning him from whence he came.  

Seriously?  Come on!  If it was a boy, I'd be thrilled.  Surprised, sure, but thrilled first and foremost, and I would have loved that little nameless man to pieces.  And also probably had to do a teensy bit of redecorating in the nursery, but pink changing cover pad and beautiful girl sign aside, we were totally ready to welcome a boy.

Except, it wasn't a boy.  That was most often my answer when people asked.  It's just not a boy... I could feel it in my very soul.

So, when the doctor pulled her out, handed her up and enthusiastically announced, "It's a GIRL!" the truth is that after nine months of expecting, wondering and not knowing, I didn't even flinch at this news.  

  

OF COURSE she was a girl!!  

Jessica even said something like, "you were right!  It was a girl!" and it still didn't phase me.  I felt 100% as though I had known all along. 

Yes, her little pink hat says "Olivia."  Pretty sure I ordered this in May.

In hindsight, this was probably about as anticlimactic a response as anyone has ever had in the delivery room.  There was no moment of open-mouthed, wide-eyed surprise as one gender or the other is revealed... just my joy and excitement that she was here, which of course, I would have had no matter what.

When we got home, Casey found the ultrasound photo that I had insisted on keeping, though he hid it to make sure I didn't cheat and find out.  Sure enough, we had some good ultrasound techs.  They knew she was a girl, too. (And please don't get me started - he hid it in a place I had looked at least a dozen times without knowing the secret was there the entire time.  I could have settled the whole thing months beforehand if only I'd looked a little more diligently.  Sigh.)

My husband, doctor and best friend all had the sense not to call me out on my less-than-impressive reaction, but even if they had, it wouldn't matter.  I'm just so, so very happy she's here.