I don’t like to find out the gender of my babies before they’re born. My husband says it’s like sneaking and opening your Christmas presents early. I understand his point, but the reason I don’t like to know is completely different.

See, I have never used any pain medication (of any sort) with my labors / deliveries. All natural. Anyone who has done that is likely to agree with me that somewhere in the process, you reach a point where you feel like you’re going to die. I’ve done that every time, anyway. What motivates me to not give up is simple. I want to know if the baby was a boy or girl before I kick the bucket. Then, once he or she is born, life is grand again and I continue on with my plan to live. Pathetic, I know.

With each one of my boys, I had dreams a few weeks before they were born that they were, in fact, boys. I’m not trying to get all mystical and new-agey on you, but I do think that’s fun.

Evan, arriving two months early, came before I had any dreams about her gender. (Besides, after three boys, I’m not sure I would have believed a ‘girl dream.’)

Last night, I had a dream that I delivered Baby F at my parents’ house, in their dining room, while visiting. The strange part? There were two Baby Fs. Two. Twins!

We know from the routine ultrasound that there is just one baby. So, the fact that my dream revealed a baby boy followed by a baby girl is pretty much a moot point, huh? It was fun, though.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008 at 9:08 pm and is filed under Ferris. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.