18w, 6d. People, it’s T minus 9 days until my next ultrasound—the big anatomy scan—and in our case, hopefully the gender reveal. I was really hoping that I could somehow manage to wait until the birth to find out the sex of this baby, but then I remembered who I really am and just how impatient that crazy lady is. So, no more waiting—at least not beyond what I have to endure.
But, because I’m so impatient and have a not-so-secret desire for this kid to be a girl (before you jump on me, a healthy baby is obviously of the utmost importance—a girl would just be nice after having two boys), I decided to take action and run this pregnancy through the litmus tests detailed in Am I Having a Boy or a Girl? (also known to me personally as “Please, for the Love of God, Tell Me This One Is a Girl!”)
- Carrying high vs. low: I have no idea. Can you tell from the above photo? High = girl; low = boy.
- Heart rate: Um, I’m going to sheepishly admit to owning a Doppler. And I blame it all on Amalah (all of my bad ideas come from the Internet, methinks). The heartbeat has been consistently above 140, which supposedly indicates a girl.
- Cravings (sweet vs. sour/salty): Can I just say all of the above? I mean, lemonade is one of my major cravings this time around, but it’s both sour and sweet, you know? So this one is a toss-up, I guess.
- Looks: I asked my husband last night if he thought I looked the same as during the last two pregnancies. He cautiously asked what I meant, and when I explained about the old wives’ tale that girls steal a mother’s beauty, so I wanted to know if I looked uglier, he refused to answer (which was smart on his part—it’s a no-win situation—I want to look uglier if it’s true, but I don’t want my husband to tell me I’m uglier… Make sense?). I got nothin’ here.
- Drano: I dunno. We have none in the house; I’m skipping this one.
- Ring test: It swung side-to-side… girl! (But also maybe kind of a little bit in a circle… boy?)
- Morning sickness: I definitely was queasy throughout my first trimester—living on saltines, ginger candy and these awesome Preggie Pop Drops—but I never actually threw up, not even once—just like my last two pregnancies. Granted, my mom never threw up when she was pregnant with me, and I was indeed a girl, so can we just chalk this one up to family history… please?
- And finally, the Chinese gender predictor: it’s a girl! (For what it’s worth—which is admittedly nothing—it was right for me with my last two pregnancies.)
Did you try to use any old wives’ tales to predict the sex of your baby? Were the results accurate? Also, if you’re somehow psychic, tell me what I’m having! Leave a comment below.