The early days of this pregnancy were miserable. I was sick (which I've covered), there would be some issue with the baby (because I'm of advanced maternal age now), and because my insurance policy at the time covered 0 (zero!) maternity costs. Things are better now but at the time I had a long, long list of concerns.
Shortly after the first sonogram, my son brought the picture to me and asked, "Mama, this looks like a black baby. Are we having a black baby?"
Without missing a beat, I launched into a speech. "I haven't even thought of that, sweetie. Maybe I can ask the doctor if she can tell. God will give us the baby we are supposed to have. You just never... know... for sure?"
And then my brain caught up to my mouth and I realized that even though there was this long list of things I did not control, ethnicity was one I did.
I can pretty much guarantee, even without any prenatal testing, that I am not having a black baby. Or a blonde baby, for that matter.
Because there are some things you really do know.