After keeping the secret for a whopping five days, Kayla and I decided to announce B.K.’s gender with a bang.
We found out ourselves shortly before the Fourth of July. Given we always have a party for the Fourth anyway, that evening we decided to launch fireworks and smoke bombs in blue for a boy and pink for a girl to share the secret.
The folks selling the fireworks may have been the most excited, telling everyone at the stand what I was doing and why I needed certain color fireworks.
Kayla also set up an fancy ballot box where guests could cast their votes for boy or girl, the results of which were similar to those of our old wives’ tales experiment from a couple weeks ago.
We invited our friends, family and their guesses. Most of which were boy or girl. Come evening, when I made my way out to street carrying fireworks, the labels carefully removed to prevent giving away what colors they would be. I set them down in a neat line, and lit the fuse.
But let’s back up a bit. Yes, the suspense continues to build.
I think Kayla and I were both less nervous going into the doctor’s office earlier that week, having been to the clinic three times prior.
It’s amazing just what an ultrasound can show. We got the alien-like “4D” image, which I could have probably done without.
You can also see the blood flowing into the baby, and the heart pumping the blood. Our kid’s heart. Ultrasounds are a special thing.
Though, one thing was missing in the baby’s lower region.
Kayla told our nurse she thought it was going to be a boy. Then she told her about our last post of old wive’s tales that predicted a girl.
“Well, looks like those old wive’s tales were right,” she said with a smile.
Yep, it’s a girl. Whoop whoop!
I double checked with her that the suspicious shadow on the ultrasound could be a penis in hiding.
Nope, she assured me with 99-percent certainty this was a girl.
My mind raced with what her future would hold and immediately started thinking about the life this little girl would lead, all the wonderful moments we would share.
I also immediately thought of the hardships she’ll probably face. Hopefully in 20 years women won’t be making 79 cents on the dollar compared to their male counterparts. Maybe Trump can fix this one for us. Lol.
There’s also likely going to be, and already are, a lot of annoying gender stereotypes to deal with. When Kayla told both our nurse and doctor our plan to reveal the gender with fireworks, they both said we’ll need to look for pink ones.
Girls have to have pink? There’s a whole range of ROYGBIV options to choose from. Let’s widen that a bit.
Yes, I wanted to get away from the stereotypical pink for a girl. We ended up going with them anyway because I had trouble finding dedicated red fireworks (red and blue were our choices because, America) but they oddly had a large box in pink wrapping, boldly displaying that it was an all-pink display. Giving in before she’s even born.
I’m already wondering what her first gun should be, and how early I can take her on a four-wheeler ride without giving Kayla a heart attack. We’ll probably wait at least a few months for that one.
We’re now open to a new round of questions. It used to be “Do you know what it is?” Now we’re facing “Do you have names picked out?”
Here’s how I visualize pregnancy: You’re in a room with a series of doors that each has a question mark on it. The room represents a question. When you finally have an answer, you choose a door expecting to see daylight, but instead get another room with even more doors. I don’t mind the questions. It’s the fact that we have so few answers that’s irritating.
I meant it when I told all those people and the internet in previous posts, that I didn’t care about gender. Remember? Happy and healthy. That’s it. And I stand by it. I can’t wait for this little girl to get here and start her new life, with every possibility we can offer and everything we can teach her.
Except for boys, which she won’t know exist until she goes to college.