Remember how I told you about our little compromise on finding out the sex of the baby? Well, that didn't exactly flesh out. When we're walking down the hall to the ultrasound room for the exam, Beau squeezes my hand. "I want to find out." Okay, now I totally don't believe him here. For 20 weeks he had been the staunchest of non-baby-gender-finder-outer supporters. A 180-degree turn at the last second? I don't think so. So I pretty much chalk it up to ultrasound anxiety and put it out of my mind.

The exam is really neat. Beau had brought an illegal video camera to the appointment to tape the big event, but he totally forgot to use it in all the excitement. The ultrasound tech shows us all the different organs and tells us that everything looks great. Praise God! Then she asks if we want to know the sex of the baby. I turn to look at Beau, and he nods. I remind him that once we find out, there's no way we can go back to not finding out status, expecting him to admit that he's been kidding. He keeps telling me he wants to know, so I ask the tech to tell us.

And...it's a BOY!!

Here's the new picture Beau made to put up on the fridge and at work:

When asked later if he really, really wanted to find out, he simply repeats, "I wanted to know." In Beau code that means "I know you really wanted to find out, and I wanted you to be happy." But he'd never admit that. Isn't he the greatest??