Today I find myself 12 weeks pregnant with the peanut. It’s starting to feel more real. We’ve told our families. I’m planning on telling work next week. Things are happening.
We got the results from our NIPT. We did the Panorama test through Natera which tests for chromosomal abnormalities and identifies the sex. Low risk for everything tested. I don’t think I can accurately describe the relief that washed over me when I got the call from the nurse. I’m still so convinced that this pregnancy is hanging on by a thread.
Part of the hell that is going through IVF meant that I lost all ability to do all the cutesy shit you read about other women doing. I didn’t get to surprise my husband with a pregnancy test and a onesie. He knew damn well when I was peeing on a stick and what was riding on that morning’s pee. I’ve spent the past 2 months dealing with soul crippling anxiety because I know just how much can go wrong at any point.
So when I texted my husband the news that Peanut was low risk, I left out the part where they told me the sex.
And he didn’t ask.
So I decided to go cheesy. At my lunch break that day, I ran to Target and got a gender themed newborn oneside and a little gift box. When I got home, I told him to humor me and that if he wanted to know, he should open the box. He panicked for a split second – apparently he had totally forgotten that the testing would also tell us boy or girl. So he opened the box and found this:
It’s a boy!
Part of me is terrified but most of me is pumped. Time to raise me a little kickass feminist boy. As long as he comes out healthy, I don’t care. I’m just happy.