Pink or Blue?!

Its not just that I'm a bad blogger lately. We moved on December 1st and still don't have internet at home. Our modem came yesterday, so any day now, really. In the mean time...

We are really excited that Baby Green has a name, and it is no longer Promise (which was our nickname - We believed from the time we got engaged that God would bless us with a child together, that He promised that to us.). Well, we're 90% sure about this name anyway...

Because I don't like taking off from my part time job for appointments, and because my doctor only sees patients at the Katy office until noon on Wednesdays (they have 2 other offices in the Houston area he divides his time with), I am very good at getting the 11:30 slot, which is his last one. That means he, knowing I love them and that he's in no hurry, pretty much always does an ultrasound. At 16 weeks, I got reaaaaally excited about getting that peek. It was right around my birthday, and I have not enjoyed the anticipation of not knowing the gender of my little bonus passenger. So my doctor obliged and we took a peek. This child was having none of it. Literally. Squeezed the legs together, rolled over, and gave us a thumbs up. I told my sister that obviously the baby is already in love with Aunt Katy and her aggie ways. She agrees. My doctor told us 18 weeks would be easier to check, and we'd do a more thorough ultrasound. I got PUMPED. We arrived for our 18 week check up like it was Christmas morning. Seriously. I was hardly able to sit still all morning. When the nurse came in with the doppler, she told us he hadn't order the big gender scan. I was NOT happy. We had our visit with the doctor, and he said, "Well, its still so early. We'll have the big gender scan in 2 more weeks. *notices my frown* But let's go take a look." So we head across the hall to the ultrasound room. We looked at a precious head and face. (btw - I was negative across the board on my triple screen. No risk for Downs Syndrome, Spina Bifida, and whatever the 3rd one is. Not that it would make us love our child less, but we did high 5 when he told us.) We looked at a sweet little belly and all I could think was how much I can't wait to tickle and kiss that belly. Then we moved to the legs. "The legs are always the hardest part." This child is still not a cooperator. There was this precious little foot that did not want to move! My doctor shook the wand on my belly (which doesn't feel that great, fyi. Especially since my placenta is apparently towards the front and made the doppler difficult. I was already sore from all that poking.) Foot still wouldn't move. So I rolled on my side and we went at it from a different angle. More wand jiggles (and grimaces from Mommy.) Nope. That foot was THERE. So that's why we only have a 90% sure on the gender. We go back on the 29th for that big gender scan (and have to go to the main office at the hospital) and we'll get a for sure confirmation on gender. I'm actually ridiculously excited about that ultrasound because Cherie and Owen will be with us for Christmas visitation then, and they'll be joining us at the appointment. I can't wait for them to see the baby, to watch those tiny arms move around and see that there is a real person in my belly. I feel like it's going to make it all so much more real for them, and it will also give them more of a sense of ownership of their new sibling. Baby will become something real that they've seen instead of just something we talk about and they pray for.

With that being said, our little miracle's name is Elijah Ross Green, or Eli. When my doctor said, (after "I'm 90% sure" of course,) "it's a boy!", Hubs was overcome. He's been saying boy the entire time, and his intuition was apparently correct. He's so happy there were some tears, which I find beyond adorable.

I'm not cray cray or anything, but there's something about being pregnant with a boy at Christmas. We spend a tremendous portion of the season remembering what it really is all about, why we have a holiday in the first place, and that is a baby boy who was born into NOTHING and gave us EVERYTHING. When I hear the story, or even just phrases like, "Mary's baby boy", I feel this surge of emotion. And I know my son is not Jesus. He is not the 2nd coming of the Savior of the World. He will just be my baby, and while God has big plans for his life, it's not the same. But I can't not touch my belly and feel slightly more in love with my child when I think of that baby boy born 2000 years ago.

I have other stuff I want to write about, but Isaac just woke up from his nap and I'm on Aunt Suzy duty. What a hard duty it is... hehehe