The has come day. The mini chalkboards urging guests to vote whether you’re having a child is up. The display listing old wives’ tales is prepared. In addition to red and blue snacks, balloons, and candy all marked with white concern markings come in their places that are rightful.
Guests commence to show up and butterflies flutter. Or—wait—was that a kick through the small one baking in your range? Ow! Absolutely a kick.
A pal you’ve understood since senior high school takes one have a look at you, now seven-and-a-half-months pregnant, clicks her teeth, and claims definitively, “It’s a lady.” She walks up to the chalkboard to vote even though you allow a sigh out. You’ve been told it’s far better to have child, because they’re just easier.
You start to feel ever