Kris Jenner . . . And All Things Kardashian by Kris Jenner Page A

like something was still missing. Robert and I talked about it for a really long time, and we decided to give it one more try. We wanted another child, and we decided that if it was a fourth girl, it would still be great, but we really wanted to go for that boy.
    I started reading up on how to conceive a boy. There was no Internet at that time, so I read a lot of books on the subject. I became this expert on how, when, and where to have sex to achieve a baby boy.
    “Oh my God, we have to have sex
right now
!” I would tell Robert over the phone. “This is it, this is the boy!
This is the boy!
”
    Robert would race home and it was wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. We didn’t have sex frequently, but just enough, because sex had become all about conceiving the boy. You had only one shot at it. You had to do it just the right way. We tried all these crazy positions: upside down and sideways, me lying there with my feet in the air, drinking special juice or tons of iced tea.
    It was pretty funny and we would laugh about it. Sure enough, I got pregnant. We tried to stay calm, because we wouldn’t know what sex the baby was until I gave birth.
    I went into labor the night before St. Patrick’s Day, 1987. All of my girlfriends showed up at the hospital. Shelli Azoff brought Fatburgers for everyone. It was a huge party at two a.m. in the waiting room with all my friends and family and Robert’s family there, everyone thinking and praying,
Let it be a boy! Let it be a boy!
    If it was a girl, we would name her Kelly—with a
K
, of course. If it was a boy, we were going to name him Robert Arthur Kardashian after Robert and his father, Arthur, in the Armenian tradition.
    In the delivery room, my doctor, Paul Crane, who delivered all my kids, warned me, “I don’t want you to be upset, but I am pretty sure this is a girl. I’m just saying that because when the baby comes out, I don’t want you to freak out on me if it is a girl.”
    “I’m going to be fine,” I said.
    I screamed when the baby came out and Dr. Crane said, “Oh my God, it’s a boy!” I think he was as shocked as I was. But lo and behold, it was a boy—Robert Arthur, although we would come to call him Rob—followed by a celebration like no other. My best friend, Joyce Kraines, heard the commotion. She had her ear up against the door the entire time I was giving birth. I was staring up at the big metal operating room fixtures when I heard Dr. Crane yell to Joyce, “Put on some scrubs!” Joyce came running into the operating room, a mask thrown over her face, and she came to me and started kissing my face and giving me huge hugs.
    My mother-in-law came in with jewelry—the most beautiful diamond and sapphire brooch you have ever seen in your life, which had been handed down for generations—and a thank-you note for me.
It’s a boy, it’s a boy, it’s a boy!
When I gave birth to Kourtney and Kimberly and Khloé, I didn’t get anything, but I have this boy and she’s suddenly giving me her jewelry! There wereflowers every where.
God, I should have had four sons!
I thought, kidding, of course. But it was a day I’ll never forget. In those days, a mother would spend a few days in the hospital after giving birth, and I really enjoyed it, with friends and family stopping by constantly.
    Now we had four children and no worries when it came to our lifestyle. Robert’s career was booming. He had kept his bar membership active, but was working on a company he owned called
Radio & Records
, or
R&R
. It was the newspaper for the music industry, and it was huge. He had sold the company to an even bigger company in Dallas, but he had stayed on to run it for another five years. Once that contract expired, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next. He ended up working with our good friend Irving Azoff at one of the companies he was running, MCA Radio Network, and Robert went to work at Universal Studios, where the company was based.
    Life was great and getting