Oh, Balls!

Numero Three Update

Last weekend Marc and I drove up to Seoul for my 21 week ultrasound to check if the babe is growing, healthy, etc. The boys stayed with my parents who are in town for a few weeks - yea! The ultrasound went along as normal with the tech taking measurements and making comments. At one point I thought I saw something suspicious betwixt the legs, but told myself it could just be the umbilical cord or who knows what. Then she asked that fateful question: Did we want to know the gender. I think I already knew but it wasn't yet confirmed. As I said in my last post, I was planning on waiting for the birth, but I looked at Marc, who really wanted to know, and the anticipation of being able to find out right then was too overwhelming so I caved in. She looked at me and said, "It's a boy!"

My eyes widened and right away I muttered something like, "Oh my goodness, three boys. Wow." I was stunned. I kind of figured all along it would be a boy but I really, really had myself believing that maybe, just maybe, I would hear the shocking, surprising, incredible news that its actually a GIRL! When she was all done we walked out to the waiting room to wait for the doctor and I will shamefully admit that I cried seventeen tears. I had this vision built up that my boys would get a sister and she would have two doting older brothers and Marc and I would get a daughter and there would be pigtails and striped tights and squeaky giggles. Instead, I had the exact feeling I was worried about and why I wanted to wait until the birth.

PLEASE DON'T GET ME WRONG. I am SO grateful that Numero Three looks good and is growing and that we've been given the gift of a third child. That is more important and wonderful than anything. And I know for a fact that he will be loved as much as I love my boys to the point that my heart could explode. I was just kinda sorta hoping for a shift in family dynamics, ya know? I wanted my boys to grow up with a sister so that they could be more sensitive and understanding to the mysterious ways of women. I really feel like a daughter would be good for Marc. I wanted to meet and know and see my girl. She would have been called Greta. She was not to be.

BUT... there will be balls! And more balls! And cars and trucks and sports and wrestling on the floor and underwear dances and dirt and destruction and more balls and sword fighting and stinky feet. Our house will be full of noise and life, which is such a blessing. I'm not all into enforcing "gender roles" and I'm totally cool with whatever and whomever my boys grow up to be. I encourage all kinds of play including things that are considered more "girly" and I'm so tickled when they play kitchen and dolls and dress-up and when Toby wants to make me look pretty by brushing my hair and putting chapstick on me, but the likelihood is that there will just be a lot of balls, sports that I don't understand, and chaos. If Grandma Dori could see me now! She love, love, loved telling everyone about her THREE SONS. This is my destiny. She and I are alike in more ways than one - three sons and lots of moving around!

So that's the news! Almost a week later, I think I'm pretty well over the shock. This sweet boy will be at least the fourth or fifth child to wear all the clothes we have, or what threads are left of them, since they were already hand-me-downs when Toby wore them. I won't need to buy one single thing until he's a teenager. We're totally equipped, clothing- and toy-wise, for Male Numero Three. Whether we're equipped to handle three boys is yet to be determined. I can't wait to see his precious face and get to know him. His big brothers are going to love and adore him and take such good care of him. I know it! Jonah likes to tell me, "I be'd happy to baby." That's Jonah for "I don't intend to harm the wee one...much."

Now for a solid name...