And the baby is...

A BOY!!! That's right. I am going to have a little, adorable baby boy. It's pretty exciting. We went to the ultrasound on Friday and when the ultrasound lady said, "You're having a boy. Look, there's his little scrotum and his little penis." I looked up at the screen and I could not see it but I took her word for it. Then she moved down by this legs and he opened them up and there it was. It was undeniable. It is definitely a boy with his teeny tiny peanut. Afterward my boyfriend made a comment that was a little inappropriate but super funny. He said, "Now you will always have a penis inside you." At least for the next five months this will be true.

Now we need to come up with a name. Ryan is no help in this part. He constantly shoots out names that are ridiculous. Like Perseus and Ichigo. With a name like Perseus our kid will constantly be made fun of. With a name like Ichigo, every time a new teacher takes role, they will see his name and immediately start searching for an Asian kid. They will not find one. Instead it will be the little white kid. Not gonna happen. Of course, every name that I mention, Ryan shoots down. Jensen. "That's a gay name." Shawn. "I don't want to name our kid after that fat ass." We just cannot agree to anything. Of course, the names that he mentioned were just jokes. The only name that he has seriously suggested and really wants is Brady. After Tom Brady. I don't know how I feel about this name. It's cute for a little kid but what about when he grows up? Will he still want that name? Will he want a more manly name? Should we plan for a name that can be shortened to a cute little kid nickname but is also an adult name? This is way too hard. If anyone has suggestions, I will take them.

One in a Million

"You're pregnant." When I heard these words three months ago, I could barely believe it. There's no way that I could be pregnant, I thought. I was on the IUD. That in an of itself is supposed to prevent pregnancy. Plus my boyfriend always pulled out. We literally had a one in a million chance to get pregnant. We should have been playing the lottery instead of having sex. We would have had much better results. The worst part was that my twenty first birthday was coming up in a month. Now I'm never going to be able to drink, I thought.
Here I am, sixteen weeks into my pregnancy and I can still barely believe it. Even with the ultrasound from week seven and hearing the heartbeat two weeks ago. It still doesn't make sense. Although I guess it does explain the nausea, vomiting, fatigue, super huge and tender breasts, and the rampant emotions. My poor boyfriend has had to put up with so much these past few months. I'm surprised he hasn't ripped my head off yet. He hasn't even turned twenty yet, I'm the person he lost his virginity to, and now he's going to have a baby. Though, lucky him, he doesn't have to push it through his gains in about six months. Nope. That'll be me. I'll be the one screaming at the top of my lungs in absolute agony while he stands there and lets me squeeze the life out of his hand. He'll also have to deal with me cursing him for putting me in that situation, but that is a small price to pay for not having to give birth to a huge as baby. Something that big is not meant to come out of something that small. It doesn't seem fair, but I guess there is no going back now.