Yesterday I finally received the call I have been anticipating. I have to admit that my heart jumped when I looked at the caller ID and recognized my doctor's office. I knew that they were calling with the results of my "old lady having a baby" tests. Answering the phone, I knew that I was either going to be elated or devastated by the news. In this situation, there would be no middle ground.
The nurse must be accustomed to making these phone calls because she wasted no time with chit chat. I don't think I took a breath between answering the phone and hearing her say, "Everything looks good." With 98% accuracy, our baby has been deemed free of any chromosomal anomalies. Hearing those words, I felt all of the fears and anxieties melt away. For the first time since discovering the pregnancy, I felt a liberating sense of excitement.
We don't know the gender and won't until the baby is born. We didn't know with Robby and, much to the chagrin of our family and friends, we won't find out with this baby either. There is something special about discovering the gender at the time of birth.
Robby still doesn't know the big news, but we plan on telling him soon. Scott and I both know that we need to bring Robby in on the announcement before Thanksgiving. After all, we don't want to ruin his holiday with the news.
It probably doesn't help our anxieties that numerous acquaintances have taken it upon themselves to provide their two cents. From Scott's co-workers to my cleaning lady, we've been told at least three times that Robby will be "ruined" by the news. I've also been warned that he will "never be the same" and my "sweet little boy will be gone." Seriously, people? I really don't need somebody whom barely knows our family dynamic to make us feel guilty about having a baby. We don't require reminders that he is an only child. The fact that another sibling is joining our family does not mean that we are going to stop loving and doting on Robby!