Gender Reveal | Love At It's Best

My man is amazing, and that has been said in so many ways on this blog that it's almost ridiculous. But on this day of all days, he trumped his own record and melted me all over again. 

See, I try to be a reasonable woman, but sometimes you can’t help but sniffle a little when circumstances ruin your plans. Which is to say that maybe I did accidentally let a few tears slip after he left for work, even though he made me promise I wouldn’t cry. The schedule of Prichard Logging LLC had butted in on our happy day and stole him away from me. It couldn't be helped, but as often as I repeated that fact to myself as I crawled back into bed at 6:30 in the morning, I still couldn't keep that dramatic, mournful feeling at bay. 

I was remembering how it felt to be twelve again. 

When I eased back out of bed a little later, it was a whole lot drearier of a day than I thought it would be. I made the long drive slowly,  losing my drippy attitude and gaining one of impatience and excitement. Kinda. I still really wished I didn’t have to have all the fun by myself. I knew he had wanted to be here today...there was just no way around it...

I reprimanded myself for being so dramatic.

Finally, I was walking through the double doors of the Biltmore OB. I signed in and took the back seat in the waiting room. 

And I squashed the lump in my throat back to where it came from. 

And I sighed a little, because I just knew they wouldn’t call me back for forever. 

And I swallowed the lump again. 

And tried to be interested in fairy costumes. (The magazine was full of them.)

Finally the nice, friendly ultrasound tech called my name at the door, and I gathered my receipt and medicine and pocket-book, hoping nobody else was named “Anna” today…

Nobody was. 

I pretended to be joyous and thrilled, and smiley as we two walked down the hall. There should have been three. Oh, Babe… I miss you… 

I reprimanded myself for being so dramatic. 

Then there were hard, hurried footsteps falling behind us, and somebody who was very out of breath exclaimed; “Oh, good, I was trying to catch you. Miss Pritchard? Your husband called to say that he will be here right at 2:00.”

What in the world… I knew he was crazy busy today, so I hadn’t asked him to come after I found out he couldn’t. My brain couldn’t comprehend how it was possible for him to get away. But he was coming?

And he made it. Just barely in time for the reveal, but he made it. The poor man found a partial break in that unrelenting schedule and drove clear from South Carolina to be with me for the most important part of the ultrasound, then turned around and drove all the way back, without me ever asking. 

Apparently, my husband is a mind-reader who loves me more than practicality allows.

And we’re having a sweet little girl! More ruffles and hair bows, more pink-pajama-ed snuggles in the early morning, and there will be four of us. Four just sounds more family-ish than three.

Hopefully this post doesn't just show up my complete immaturity…but it does show up his complete unselfishness — So I’m posting it anyways - along with a video of our “Silly String Reveal” a few hours later.

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Gender Reveal | Love At It's Best