Tuesday, January 8, 2008

The 80% Pronoun

So we had an ultrasound a while ago, and with the technician at our side we stared really hard at the monitor.

80% chance that it's a girl.

But here's the thing- they tell you that you can't really know a girl 100%. You can know 100% if it's a boy because there's not a lot of weenis-shaped debris floating around to confuse you. And this baby was very tumbly. I thought I was sure I saw a girl, that we went over the criteria the silhouette needed to meet. We gave the technician this knowing look that she returned.

"We know what we saw there!", the look said. "A whole lot of nothing, if you catch our drift!"

In that moment we were so certain. But as time goes on my wife and I fall into that 20% of uncertainty like it's a black hole. Anti-matter sucking us in.

We're calling it she. Her. We're preparing for a girl too; everything purchased is very gender neutral, but our brains default to the 80% chance that it is a girl. We're telling people about the 80%, but they aren't listening either. It's like if we keep calling it a girl, the percentage will fatten up somehow. All of us hear 80% and we just ride that fact like it's a luck dragon.

But there's a 20% chance it's a boy with a tiny, obfuscated dong.

There's an advanced ultrasound we can take that will eliminate the doubt, but of course insurance doesn't pay for it so we're trying to talk ourselves out of it. It would be so silly, yet so comforting to know the gender. Because when they do that ultrasound they ask you "if you want to know". When you say "yes" to that question, you want an answer! What is this 80% shit? You didn't ask me "would you like to be 80% sure"!


Bella Rossa said...

Could your little family be any cuter? I am just melting reading this. So sweet.

Also, "Tiny, obfuscated dong?" Ha ha ha ha ha!!!

wagsandpurrs said...

Hey, we just got to listen to the "swush swush swush" of the heartbeat in the dark ages of the 70's! In fact, I was pretty positive that Erica was going to be a girl, but superstitious enough to not look at ONE PINK THING until she was born because I just KNEW that if I did, a penis would just pop right on out, like those little plastic things on meat products that let you know when it's done! So, she wore lots and lots of blue things from her big brother. And that was perfectly fine!