Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

Everyone knows I want a girl. Kiefer knows that if we have a boy, he is to swap our baby boy with a baby girl in the hospital nursery.

And I think we all know that I, more than anyone, deserve a baby girl.


Because boys are gross.

That should be enough, but I have backups….

  1. Because I am already outnumbered by the guys. Even the dog is a boy. Where is the justice?
  2. Kiefer held the ring on a string over my tummy, and it predicted a girl.
  3. The heartrate at my first appointment was 155. Anything over 140 usually means it’s a girl. It would cruel to give me that hope and then snatch it away.
  4. The heartrate at my second appointment was 173.
  5. The heartrate at my third appointment was 158.
  6. The heartrate at my fourth appointment was 150.
  7. The heartrate at my fifth appointment was 141. That’s dangerously close to boy territory.
  8. The doctor said it was a girl, and then said, “Oh wait…the baby just moved. Let me tell you for sure at the next appointment.”
  9. At the next appointment, the baby wouldn’t open its legs, so they’re only 80% certain it’s a girl.

That had better be a leg…a girl’s leg.

Obviously, it’s a girl, and she’s already working on being ladylike by keeping her legs together.

About thoughtsappear

I eat lots of sugar. It's the only way to keep up with my new baby and to outrun zombies. View all posts by thoughtsappear

12 responses to “Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

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