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My Wife Is Making Me Cheat

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I mean, that’s what it is, right? Circumventing one of the biggest surprises you can get in life is cheating. It just is. To me anyway. If you think I’m crazy or old-fashioned or just plain wrong, I think you’re wrong. But, I might be wrong.

We’ve never done this before. We’ve never found out the gender of a child prior to birth.

Sparing you the details, I saw my oldest son’s head for over two hours and didn’t know he was a he until the final push. That two hours for me was otherworldly. It was as intense a situation I’ve ever been in. We were SO excited. So joyful. So scared. And, Mrs. Blonde was in serious pain (the typical kind of pain though…meaning no major trauma was taking place that God didn’t design her to handle). After he was born, I was the one that got to walk out into the lobby and declare my son’s name (LA here in blogville) to our closest family (August 2006). It was a defining moment for all of us. I think especially for me. When a new father gets to declare his firstborn son publically, a pride from deep within emerges that he didn’t even know needed to emerge to begin with. Think of that Lion King scene.

Then, we got to do it all over again when Boatboy was born in May 2008. I only got to see his head for like seven minutes before we knew he was a he. But, still just as authenticating of an experience.

Two years-ish later (January 26):

Mrs. Blonde: “We are so finding out this time!”

Mr. Blonde: “No we’re not. It’s cheating. We are not finding out!”

/ time lapses /

Banter back and forth. Often of the playful sort.

/ time lapses /

March 1 (excerpt from “discovery“ post)…

A few ticks over thirty days since we found out. Ultrasound day! By 10:30am ET we got the news we so desired…a happy-perfectly-growing-170bpm-heart-of-a-peanut growing inside Mrs. Blonde’s belly! Life! Baby little nubs and baby little swimming…

Then … it happened ….

A moment that will work to define the rest of our lives as a family. It (our little peanut) has a neighbor. The same size. The same movements. The same-size little sac-home as its little friend. We have two already. And, we’re getting two more. By October 2 or sooner, we’re doubling down.

Before we left the doctor’s office, I made two concrete decisions:

1) I’m getting a vasectomy for Christmas.

2) You (Mrs. Blonde) can “find out.”

Tomorrow: we “find out.” Mrs. Blonde is out of her mind excited. I am, too. But I still feel like it’s cheating.

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