The Envelope Please

One of the bummers about this pregnancy was that Jericho wouldn't be here for the gender ultrasound. I thought about waiting for him to come home in July and we'd go for another ultrasound so we could both be there to have the tech tell us what we're having but July is WAY too long to wait. So I tried to come up with a plan to make it seem like he's still involved in the big news.

And so I did this.

This is the super secret gender envelope. On May 2nd, I went to my doc and told the tech that I didn't want her to tell me the gender but then handed her an envelope and note card and told her to write it down. She knows that my husband is overseas so I told her my little plan and she went along with it beautifully. She never let it slip and when all the picture taking was done, she turned away and put the printed gender pictures in the envelope and never let it slip. She sealed it up and handed it over.

Then I put it in a "Happy Anniversary" card and put it in the mail to Afghanistan that day.

Jericho was then to get my letter with its secret contents, wait for a time when we could talk on Skype and open it for the first time. That way he would be the first person to know the gender and then get to share it with me. Men don't really get to have the same kind of pregnancy excitement as us women, and they're probably fine with that, but I figured this plan would at least make ME feel more like he gets to be as excited.

You probably don't really care about what I did and why so here's the real reason for the post:

What? You can't read what's typed on the ultrasound picture?

In teeny little letters is typed "I'm a BOY!!!"

So there ya go. We're having a boy!!! Since the beginning, Jericho has only referred to new baby in male pronouns because he was convinced it would be a boy so why refer to him as anything else. Because we both were preferring a boy for this baby, I was so sure that would mean this would be another girl. But nope! We get our boy. One girl. One boy. Next we just need a dog and picket fence and we'll have our All-American suburban family.