Grey Hearts and Flowers

Boys or Girls?

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I wake twenty minutes before the alarm with a smile on my face. This has lately become my favorite sliver of the day. No one knows I do this, not even Ana, who's none the wiser now as she snoozes next to me. I tip-toe my fingers to the edge of the comforter and gently peel it and then the sheet away from her belly, then inch her satin camisole up to expose the bare skin of her bigger-than-even-when-we-went-to-bed-last-night bump. She's glorious and breathtaking and thankfully she's still asleep. This pregnancy has her out like a rock, so hopefully she won't wake up during what I'm about to do. She hasn't yet.

"Good morning kids," I whisper into Ana's belly and I can feel the babies stir at the sound of my voice. I think they like me. I hope so. Either that or they're asking each other who this weird dude that jabbers on and on before 6am everyday is. I purposely wake at this time each morning so we can have a few minutes alone before the start of the day. I like to talk to them. We don't converse about anything especially groundbreaking—mostly the weather (in the womb and out), or what they want to be when they grow up, or how they're always going to listen to their father. I also gave that last instruction to Teddy and Phoebe en utero—well, maybe the third and fourth time's the charm. It really doesn't matter what we talk about, I just like these few precious minutes before the light of morning steals me away. This special little pocket of time just for me and them.

"Did you have a good sleep?" I ask, lightly stroking Ana's skin. "I hope that Chinese food your mother had a craving and sent me out for didn't keep you up." I feel a flutter from the one on the right side of her belly and I can't tell if that's a yes for good sleep or a vote against late night Szechwan Palace. I think that's the chattier of the two—the one on the right. The right side always gets up first and seems to gab away. Or maybe it's all just gas from the egg rolls. But, I'd like to think it isn't.

"We get to find out about you two today..." There's a rumble on the left side and I don't think gas would have such perfect timing. "You excited, too? But you already know what you are." Double flutters. No, not gas; definitely babies. It's only flutters now, but when they really start full-on kicking it's going to be a soccer match on Ana's bladder. I better get ready for having no sleep at night, before I have to get ready for having no sleep at night.

"Give me a hint—blue or pink?" There's no response. I put my ear to her belly so I can hear for grumblings better. "You're just like your mother, aren't you? You like to keep me on my toes."

Grumble Grumble.

I smile against Ana's skin and turn to give her belly a kiss; it's soft and sweet and I hope somehow my babies can feel my warmth beneath it.

Boys or girls... I've been going over and over the possibilities lately in my mind. If it's boys, Teddy and I will have some troops on our side and we'll be well on our way to a baseball team. If it's girls, I'll be so outnumbered I'll never win a family vote again—not that I ever do anyway—and I'll definitely have a heart attack by fifty. Oh who am I kidding, the heart attack is happening regardless. But, the good kind of heart attack. The one that feels worth it.

It seems like yesterday we brought Teddy home, all swaddled up in that blue blanket and teddy bear jumpsuit Mia gave him. Having a baby was all so new then. Ana was a pro immediately. I, on the other hand, was a terrified, elated, exhausted mess of emotions I never knew existed before. I was sort of like that trail mix you get at the Whole Foods; the kind where you find something sweet, tart and a new kind of nutty in every bite.

He cried so much those first weeks. It was day and night, but mostly night. Only two things soothed him. One was me driving with him to the local liquor store, always after midnight after a scenic route through the neighborhood. It had to be Carnival 8 Liquors with the lit-up clown on the sign that waves. I found the thing terrifying, be he absolutely loved it. I kept the car running as he watched the neon clown, eventually falling asleep with the hum of the engine rocking him. He looked so peaceful and sweet. I, on the other hand, looked like some creep scoping out the drink joint, looking to hop some beer and make a run with it. My great fear was that paparazzi were going to catch me with my newborn son outside this place and headlines would read: Billionaire Bails on Bride and Boozes with Baby Boy on Board, but thankfully they never did.  And the second thing was him laying on my chest as we watched Mexican soap operas at 3am. I don't know what it was about it, but that telenovela passion filled Spanish made him sleep like a log and I found myself wanting to catch the next episode just to see if Pablo manned up and confessed his affair to Lola who was already screwing shirtless stable boy Antonio in the barn that jealous Marina was about to set on fire. Teddy loved the warmth of my chest... It was a novelty to give comfort from a place I only knew pain before Ana. And it surprised me how much I loved to hold him there. Yes, it would be nice to have two little mini me's to teach how to throw a ball again, or crash cars into stacks of blocks, or have man talk over mashed bananas and apple juice. I miss having a little boy. Sure, Teddy's still only six, but then again he's almost seven.