20 Weeks and A Guessing Game

I've counted the last weeks by hours between Zofran doses and by number of Saltine crackers consumed.

The new contents of my bedside table

Lately, I've been counting it by quiet, but firm little kicks against my stomach wall.

The boys have been counting the weeks by the silly names they come up with for their new sibling and the days left until they know if it's a boy or a girl.

Somehow, I have survived the harrowing vomiting and bone marrow deep fatigue to make it to the halfway point.

Seriously, I don't remember the fatigue being this bad with the other two.  Granted, it was six years ago and I wasn't working 50-70 hours a week, but still. Coming home and talking to the nanny and then falling asleep on the floor while talking to her...that's pretty major fatigue.  But even that is improving.  I have actually made it past 9 pm on several occasions.

I'm still wearing my regular clothes (I'm not calling them pre-pregnancy.  The only things I refer to as "pre-pregnancy" are my body and the clothes I wore before Bug...10 years ago).  But I'm getting to the awkward stage where the buttons don't quite meet, the waists are just a little too tight, and people can definitely tell that my body is changing, but they aren't completely sure if it's because I'm pregnant, or because I've over indulged on the breakfast doughnuts.

Yes, I shared a picture of my little bump. Which I can't believe I did.  I'm normally self-conscious about sharing any pictures where I'm not safely hidden behind my two boys. But I'm hoping that I'll look back and be glad that I documented all the changes associated with this baby, both good and bad.

Currently, the most anxiety producing thing (since I've stopped worrying about all the basics, having had an early ultrasound that revealed that my baby does in fact have two arms, two legs, a head, a brain, a stomach, a bladder, and an intact spine) is the matter of gender.

Yes, we are going to find out.  I am way too much of a control freak to not find out.

Everyone assumes that I want a girl, since we already have two boys.  If I'm being completely honest here, the thought of a girl scares me to death.  I'm raising two boys.  I already have all the stuff for boys.  I feel like I know what I'm doing.  Boys are my comfort zone, my worn-in jeans feeling. I would have no idea what to do with a girl.  And I worry that people will assume the whole reason we wanted a third baby was to have a girl, when really it was just the baby I wanted, regardless of gender.  I have spent so much time stressing about what on earth I will do if I find out the baby is a girl.

But there is also a part of me that thinks about dresses and bows and pink and fairy wings and tea parties and prom and weddings. And really, wouldn't a girl be wonderful.  Especially since Monkey has said that he only wants the baby if it's a girl, because he already has a brother.

Our official ultrasound is next week.  Don't think for a moment that I haven't tried to figure this out on my own.  I've been ultrasounding myself every couple days trying to figure out what Duck is.  However, my ultrasound skills are severely lacking in that department. I spend the time instead looking at the tiny little arms and legs and the reassuring flutter of the heart.

So, until next Thursday at noon, any guesses as to the gender of little Duck?