It's Mommy Time!

Hi everyone, this is Alicia. Patrick's been pestering me to make a blog post for a while now, so I finally gave in. I'm not nearly as good of a writer as he is, so please excuse my writing weaknesses.

In about a week we are going for our next doctor's visit. We get to see the first pictures of our baby! It's quite exciting. There is one small problem... If everything goes smoothly and Baby Potts cooperates, we should be finding out the sex of the baby.

I know, I know, most of you are thinking, "What's the problem with that?!" The problem is that I don't want to find out the sex of the baby. It has been an ongoing debate in our household for a few months now. When Patrick and I first got married and the topic of having children came up, I was very clear about the fact that I didn't want to find out the sex of our children. Maybe part of the reason is that my parents never found out what they were having. I never knew whether I was getting a new brother or sister. And those were some of the best surprises of my life!

I have always enjoyed being surprised. (Good surprises of course.) Growing up, I was never one to look in closets, or search the attic to try and discover what I was getting for Christmas. In fact, most years "Surprises" was actually one of the items I would write on my Christmas list. Patrick, on the other hand, has no patience for surprises. It isn't that he doesn't like them, he just gets too excited. He can't wait for the surprise to come, he needs to know now! Ever since we have been together, I don't think one Christmas or birthday has passed where he hasn't opened his gifts early. If it's under the tree, he NEEDS to open it. Whatever is in the package can be used and enjoyed now, so why wait? Needless to say, I do not agree with his philosophy. For me, the surprise is part of the gift. There is something special about the excitement and apprehension of the wait. It builds up and makes the end result even more awesome.

With that said, about 90 percent of the people who ask about the pregnancy and the baby want to know what we're having. I can't tell you how many times a day I hear, "Is it a boy or a girl?" or "Have you found out what you're having yet?" I try to explain that I don't want to find out and I get mostly blank stares or confused looks. I understand of course. I get why Patrick wants to know now. And it will make picking out a name and shopping for baby things much easier.

In the end I finally yielded. I'm sure when they ask at the appointment if we want to know, I won't be able to say no. And it's really important to Patrick to find out. So, in about a week, we should know if we are having a boy or girl. I really don't care which it is, as long as the baby is healthy. Plus, on delivery day we could still get a surprise. Because until that baby enters the world, we won't be 100 percent sure whether we got a boy or a girl anyway.

Oh, A Horror

Today I was treated to the blissful experience of going to the lady doc with my wife. What I was expecting was to sit down while my wife was examined, answer some questions, ask some questions, and learn something new about our child. I could not have been any more wrong. Instead of having a charming "new father" experience, I had a "sit in the waiting room for an hour waiting on Alicia to be seen, then waiting an hour by myself stuck with Dr. Phil blaring on the TV" experience. The nurse flatly told me "Alyssa only. But I'll call you back here when we're done asking her a few questions." I ignored the fact that she completely got my wife's name wrong and gave an annoyed 'thumbs up.' I figured that she would be asking personal questions about patient history that would require completely honest answers and complied to the request. Later I found out that she merely asked the general questions on the original patient history form that was already filled out.

That wasn't the most frustrating part though. Alicia wanted me in the room with her. However, there was never a single moment when the nurse called me back there. Not once. Instead I was left, as I said, sitting in the waiting area having to listen to Dr. Phil make millions by being a huge ass. Of course, the women in the room were watching intently, shaking their heads in disgust at the man that had allegedly been a "bad husband and father." None of them seemed to realize that they both had opted to become a circus freak show instead of handling it in a way that would have actually been good for the kids. Time had stopped, and there I was not knowing what was even going on or if I was going to be involved at all.

Perhaps I was in the wrong for thinking that our first visit to the doctor would be a special experience for both of us. I already knew it was too early for an ultrasound, but it would be the first 100% sure answer to the pregnancy. Regardless of the evidence we had mounted already. Alicia was nervous, as was I, but that didn't seem to matter at all to the nurse. I never even got to meet the doctor. I was furious. Was I just overreacting to what was a normal experience? Maybe I was, I don't know. This is my first time, I certainly didn't appreciate being brushed off by the nurse as if I was some failure making babies everywhere I happened to lay down. Also, leaving me in a room full of unstable hormones with fugging Dr. Phil on the screen?! Torture beyond description!

Aside from the frustrating experience with someone sucking at their job, everything is going well. The current projected due date is August 23rd! That is so, so very soon. Especially the more I realize how fast this past year went. I don't even remember August of 2010. Anyway, the baby should be developing the heart soon if not already, and the eyes will begin their development. Brain cells are being produced at astonishing rates and my wife's body is changing in all sorts of ways. As for my body.. I can't stop eating regardless of feeling queasy a LOT. Yay for sharing the load I guess.

My mind has had a lot to process today. I planned to have a more fun blog post pertaining to something... well, fun. My latest posts have been more serious and perhaps a bit depressing. That's what a dull winter does for me. I love snow, but that's the problem, it hardly snows worthwhile here! Bleh!