It's Not Easy Being Green...

This Kermit quote might be interpreted entirely differently if I were referring to the first trimester and the astounding level of nausea I experienced at times.  This time- thankfully- I'm only referring to being "Team Green. "  This is a common phrase for those couples wishing to keep the baby's gender a surprise until D Day.  It's often understood that they want to keep it a surprise for themselves mostly, although I have known of a few couples who find out and attempt to keep it a secret from friends and family.   After leaving the big 20 week ultrasound (the picture above is one we had done at 18 weeks), an expectant couple will be on one of three teams: Blue, Pink or Green.  Most have made up their minds long in advance as to whether or not they wanted a sneak peek at the goods.  Shortly after finding out I was pregnant, Jake and I had such a conversation that went something like this:

Me: "Well, once we know if it's a boy or a girl, we can start working on the nursery and picking a theme...." (*yes, I'm type A...how did you guess?*)

Jake: "We're not going to find out what we're having- that ruins it!  This is one of life's few great natural mysteries..."

*crickets*

You know all the great marital advice you get about communication and working to come to a compromise?  Yeah.  It might work for choosing a flavor of ice cream at the grocery store, but there are some things that compromise just isn't an option for.  This would be one such thing.  I mean, there's no way to compromise and say, "Well, how about we look between the legs at the ultrasound and then pretend like we didn't see a penis."  Or, "I'll look at this half of the baby, and you can look at the other half and we'll flip a coin."  Nope.  It's either Team Green all the way, or no Team Green- those are the options.

Or so I *thought.*  I admit that initially, I was on board with having a Team Green baby.  I had high hopes that I could rewire my pre-existing type A personality to cope with a 10 month surprise-in-waiting.  I fell in love with the idea, not realizing the implications.  Most of the "implications" are currently sitting in the top drawer of the baby's dresser: green, yellow and white (and I might add- somewhat "homely") looking onesies, footies, bathtowels, burp cloths and receiving blankets.  And let me clarify that when I say green, I mean a puke pea-green color, and the yellow is more of a mustard-booger tint (*just whose complexion is gonna look good next to either of those stunning options, I ask you??*)  The other implications of Team Green: patience and...well, just patience.  It wasn't so hard at first.  It's not that difficult when the baby resembles something closer to a sea turtle on the ultrasound photo than it does an actual human being.   Before I even reached the second trimester, I had locked in on a color scheme for the nursery (that didn't remotely involve either of the aforementioned colors) and was gender neutral ready.  We had also already decided on a boy and girl name before I even found out I was pregnant.  Done.  All I had to do was wait....

Fast forward to my 24 week check up and a routine conversation with a nurse who I'd never seen before.  I assumed she was either new, or filling in for someone else.   As she flips through my chart, she decided to let a certain pronoun slip...as in, "well, ___ is measuring right on track and everything looks great."  AHAH!   To which, I said- "it's a ___???"  (I mean, I couldn't help it- if I thought I had heard her correctly, I wasn't about to let her just leave me hangin'.)  The poor woman looked mortified, the color draining from her face. *oops*   I reassured her- in my delight- that it really was okay, that I was actually happy and relieved to know and that my husband was the one who had convinced me to "ride it out" to begin with.

Jake wasn't exactly pleased to hear that I was no longer riding the Team Green train anymore, though, as I expected he wouldn't.  Well, he might have been relieved since I started the conversation with what every husband wants to hear after a long day's work:  "Um, babe....I need to tell you something...and I don't want you to be mad...."  He was probably bracing himself for God only knows what, and I would make a sure bet that his first thought wasn't "oh my god.  she found out the baby's gender."  

I hoped to ease some of his disappointment by promising I would keep the surprise in tact for his sake and that no one else had to know besides me.  My lips would be sealed.    So for now, the baby is still referred to as "the baby" or  "Junebug," just like we've been calling it for the past 7 months.  I'll admit it's been a bit tricky to make sure I don't have the same "pronoun mishap" (as I've come to refer to it) as the nurse that day.  I told Jake that I would just continue to go back and forth between "he" and "she" and told him not to assume the first thing I might blurt out would actually give it away.  So far, it's been working out.  But it's not so fun to have to constantly monitor what I say, or how I say it.  As for baby clothes?  I haven't gone on any shopping spree to speak of since I found out- in fact, I'm rather proud of my own restraint in this area.  When I do decide to indulge and buy this little one some outfits, I plan to keep them well hidden- possibly even stashed at a friend's house until I'm ready to wash them (and then hide them again).   Only about 8-10 more weeks to keep up with the charade. 

Until then, I'm downgrading myself to Team Half-Green (as if there is such a thing).  And half-green = half fun.