I love gender reveals. I love seeing what people came up with to announce their little one to the world. I love seeing their faces when they learn if they will have a son or daughter. Before I got pregnant, I had a whole board on Pinterest of ideas for what our gender reveal would be: a colored cake, balloons with colored confetti in them, a silly string fight with my husband that was pink or blue… the ideas were endless.
And then I got pregnant.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to know what we were having, which shocked my husband. I liked to plan… a lot. I over-planned everything, so how could I not want to plan for this? How could I not want to know if Squishy was a boy or a girl? In the end, it came down to three simple reasons for me…
We needed “stuff.”
Baby clothes are so cute. It’s hard to not stop and look in the store at the baby boy or baby girl outfits and want to buy them all (no? just me?). While our little Squishy would need clothes when he or she was born, we really needed baby “things:” a swing, a diaper bag, crib sheets, a pack ‘n play, a high chair, bottles, the list went on and on. We had nothing and needed everything. Not finding out the gender meant that we could load up our registry with the things we needed and people could bring clothes after Squishy was born if they wanted.
It gave me a reason to push.
The thought of labor terrified me. I had to push a what out of where?! I mean, I knew how it all worked, but when we talked about getting pregnant, the point of labor and delivery never came up. It wasn’t until my second trimester it sank in that I would have to go through some of the worst pains of my life before I got to hold my baby. Then I started watching videos and I decided Squishy was going to stay in my uterus until I died. Not knowing what the sex our baby gave me a reason to push. We decided my husband was going to be who told me if we had a son or daughter after I delivered, which made it even more special. In my mind, it would make the pain just a little less intense.
It didn’t matter.
At the end of the day, it didn’t matter to me if Squishy were a boy or a girl. The tiny human growing inside me was our baby and was so loved, no matter the sex. We picked out names for both a son and a daughter. We envisioned what our life would be with one or the other. This pregnancy was special and unique, no matter if we ended up with a boy or a girl.
So, tell me; did you wait to find out the sex of your baby? Or were you excited to find out early?