Speaker | Entrepreneur | Author

Sam Davidson's blog

Every Tuesday, I write.

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Later today, I'll find out (hopefully) if I'm having a male, female, non-gendered, trans-gendered or tri-gendered child. I don't know what it means to have a kid who's tri-gendered, but certainly there's money to be made there.

We'll tell people what we're having at some point. Just don't expect a big Facebook status update upon discovery of a penis (or the lack thereof).

Months ago, when we first found out, we took a trip to get the first glimpse of our child. This is what I wrote later that night:

My wife had her first ultrasound today. I say 'my wife' and not 'we' because I got to remain fully clothed and enjoyed the comfort of the nearby bench while she was a lot more actively involved.

The technician began to look around for the fetus and lo and behold, there it was. All 4 millimeters of it. Which means we're only about six weeks along, opposed to the nine we assumed. And this means it won't be a December baby, but rather a January one, which means we miss the 2009 tax break. But, I think its birth will still fall within that 6-week time frame that houses our birthdays and anniversary and Christmas.

And Kwanzaa. Don't forget about Kwanzaa.

Anyway, the technician finds the fetus and attempts to get a heartbeat, which is considerably more difficult since the child is as big as a black bean that I'll eat for dinner later. And we wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And there it is, in black and white, flickering like a star, determined to show up on a screen and in our lives. Forever. The faint flicker proved that my wife was growing something inside of her that would one day be ours to hold, to raise and to love.

The heart shone off and on like a beacon, steadily guiding us to somewhere we had never been. It twinkled like the little star from the song, comforting me and telling me that the journey of a lifetime is about to begin.

So tonight, if I think to pause and look upwards, I'll notice stars far and wide, some shining brightly and others a bit more faintly. And I'll look really hard and try to find one that's desperately attempting to be known by broadcasting its intermittent glow so that I might notice its sparkle and call it my own.

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