I come from a rather superstitious family. We don’t walk under ladders. We don’t like black cats. We don’t break mirrors. Oh, and we don’t find out the gender of our unborn children.

Well, at least that was the case with my mother when she was pregnant with me and my three younger siblings. I know she didn’t have the chance to know the gender when she was pregnant with me in early 80’s, but I am certain she could with my sibs and she chose not to. So when I planned for kids with Mr. C, I told him I didn’t want to find out and he was game (he’s pretty great like that). Being in the sports business, he has some crazy superstitions of his own (he did bring a good luck beer can to the Super Bowl this year and the Ravens did win).

There we were, two crazy kids in love with a few plus signs on pregnancy tests, eager with excitement. We went bleary eyed and smiling to our first real OB appointment. I wanted to know what kind of foods I should avoid despite reading What to Expect cover to cover. Mr. Cake wanted to know how closely the next nine months would mimic the movie Knocked Up. The ultrasound began, and my OB gave us the most shocking news we have ever received: we were pregnant with twins.

Finding out there were two babies in my belly took some mental coping because I’m not great with change. I had a plan in my mind: one baby, and suddenly I was my own BOGO.

I needed to reassess the situation. Two babies. OMG. TWO BABIES! Mentally, everything changed. My new car, which was perfect for one infant, was not going to cut it for two. Our plan was to live in our townhouse with one baby, and search for a new home when we were ready for two. But now the time between one and two went from years to minutes. My Type A personality was thrown a curve ball.

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Immediately, my mind tried to grapple this bombshell. We would need to find out the genders. It was a fun surprise to wait and see what one baby was, but two? I would need two of everything! How would I manage? I shared these feelings and anxiety with Mr. C, who calmly reminded me that my decision to not find out would have made it just as difficult to plan a nursery and pick out gear for one baby. Perhaps my rash reaction to suddenly want to know the genders of our children was based on my desire to cling to the few pieces of knowledge that I could be privy to. After all, so many of my plans had been thrown out the window with the twin announcement. Wasn’t our ultimate desire for two healthy children, regardless of their genders?

Of course, he was right. And I stuck with my guns not to find out the genders throughout my pregnancy.

Here’s how things went:

I was not the favorite patient at the perinatologist. Being a high risk pregnancy (most doctors consider multiples high risk), I went to more doctors’ appointments than a healthy single pregnancy. Actually let me revise that — I lived at the doctors office. I actually ordered lunch to the waiting room. Twice. I had countless ultrasounds and the technicians were constantly reminding me to “close my eyes” every three to four seconds, should a genital be revealed. Not that I would have had any clue if it was a penis or a vagina; it all looked like a blurry blob to me. My chart had a giant yellow neon sticker that said “DO NOT REVEAL GENDER.”

Thirty years ago women did not have  the opportunity to know what was growing inside them. While I am thankful for the advances of modern medicine (as I was glad to know there were two babies inside of me for nine months instead of having a huge delivery shock), not finding out the genders helped me focus on praying and wishing for healthy children.

I had to have a boat load of names to choose from. By a boatload, I mean four. Since we are Jewish, we decided to name our children after deceased relatives (a topic Mrs. Confetti covered beautifully here). We knew that we needed a name that started with M (after my maternal grandmother) and a name that started with R (after Mr. C’s paternal grandfather). In the end we chose a top boy and girl name and our second favorites. We were prepared for an array of combinations.

Being a superstitious Jewish mom meant not bringing anything baby related in our home. No baby shower. No purchasing most of my baby items until birth. We chose furniture and paid for it, while our local store held it for us until labor began. We chose very neutral colors for our nursery. We decided we would add lots of feminine and/or masculine touches after the birth. That was totally fine because honestly, babies don’t need many gender-related items at birth. No clothing crossed our threshold, although we picked out a layette at a local shop for each gender which my mother picked up and washed while we were in the hospital. Was it easy? No. But it wasn’t Earth shatteringly difficult at all. And again, it made the experience feel special and unique. It also made me look forward to the delivery.

I had about fifty gender dreams while I was pregnant. In every single one, I was having two boys. Needless to say, I was convinced I was having two boys. Have you done the necklace test? It came out boy. The voo doo checkout lady at my local grocery store told me to “enjoy my girls.” Any and everyone I encountered had a theory about what gender the twins were. Somewhere in Vegas, I’m convinced you could have bet on the outcome. My money would have been on two boys, of course.

My delivery was incredibly special, and I owe it all to not finding out the genders. When I was wheeled in the OR (although I had a vaginal delivery, I was in the OR) I was EXCITED. I wanted to meet our people who had been kicking me with such ferocity for nine months. And I really really wanted to know what genders they were. When R was born, the doctor said “it’s a girl.” To be honest, I was almost as shocked as when he told us there were two of them. I really had convinced myself there were two boys in there. And then M came out and he said “it’s a boy” and I said, “of course.” I cried because it was so cool that I had waited, and that I planned a super cute gender neutral nursery. Which totally worked.

Would I do it again? Definitely. I came to embrace surprises, and this was the most special of all. Did people tell me I was crazy? Of course, most people said to me, “I don’t know how you don’t know. I would have to know.” Sometimes knowledge is power. But in my case, the mystery was pretty amazing.

Did you wait to find out the gender of your child? Would you have waited if you were having twins?