Chris and I decided not to find out the gender of our baby. We figure it's one of the last big mysteries that people can still have in an age where you can Google yourself to remember all the wonderful and stupid things you've done. I think fate is messing with me. Before I told anyone about my pregnancy, aside from Chris, two different friends from work on two different occasions had dreams that I was pregnant with a little boy. These women claim to have predicted the gender nieces and nephews perfectly over the years.
Today I'm working at the library. Last week, I put some dog books on hold for one of my brothers who is thinking of getting a dog. Those books came in today. This is what I found under the pile of dog books, with a slip a paper with my name on it:
I think someone or something out there is trying to tell me something.