Having Our Cake

Would y'all mind if I backed up a bit? Thank you. Thank you very much!

At our 13-week sonogram, the doctor was able to guess that Baby C was a GIRL! I was quite surprised. I'd initially felt certain I was having a boy. After the doc made her "assessment," I politely asked her to please double check. She decided to stick with “Girl,” but cautioned us NOT to paint the nursery pink or share the news with overly zealous grandparents. Little did she know, I had planned a "Gender Reveal Party" that evening for said overly zealous grandparents. Oops.

ELC and My Dad drove, two hours, from their home and met My Sweet Hubby’s Dad and Stepmom at our house that Friday evening. After dinner (brought in from one of our favourite Italian restaurants in our little 'Burb), it was time for CAKE! Yes, that's right. Hubby and I were going to reveal Baby C's gender via one of my (and ELC's) most favourite things in the entire universe. When we cut into said cake, it would reveal either pale pink or pale blue frosting, sandwiched between the layers of fluffy and delicious vanilla cake.

As I sliced the knife into the pretty little confection, I issued this disclaimer:

Warning! At this point, we are only 60% positive about Baby C’s gender. Yes, we are well aware that's only 10% better than your guess, Dad, that It's A Girl, and Mom's guess that It's a Boy. You both are, at 50%, almost as accurate as the sonogram machine. C'est la vie. The doctor just couldn't be definite. And, of course, we had already planned this party. Therefore, if we need to "amend" the gender after our 20-week exam, that won't be such a terrible thing, will it? Who would be cRaZy enough to turn down more cake? (Maybe my Dad. Not my Mom.)


(I’d already prepared The Cake Lady, when she delivered it, for the possibility we might need another one.)

ELC was equally as confident as me that Baby C was a Boy. She was being quite sassy as she told me to "hurry up already.” She could taste the blue icing before she even saw it. Lo and behold, she was something she never likes to be: Wrong. With a capital "W." As I placed the freshly sliced piece of cake on one of the festive, yet gender neutral, plates, I wish I could have adequately captured her face with my camera. It was one of pure and utter shock. (Picture, if you will, McCauley Culkin in a Home Alone movie poster. That was ELC’s exact expression.) There, for all the world to see, was baby pink frosting! My Mom was rendered completely and utterly speechless for five full minutes. I cannot stress how rare this is. It was absolutely priceless. She almost couldn't eat. (Key word? Almost.)

Since we're now blissfully at peace with the knowledge Baby C IS a wee little chickadee, I've found other excuses to have cake. From "Today is Tuesday! Let's have cake!" to "I can no longer fit into the first round of my maternity jeans! Let's have cake!" I'm thinking My Little Leighton will probably adore this obsession as much as her Mama and Grammy. We are “Over the Moon” we saw that pale pink frosting. Yes, yes we are! IT'S A GIRL!!!