For the first few weeks, I hadn’t the foggiest clue as to the gender identity of my little fetus friend. People would ask and I’d say “WTF I don’t have a clue, how the heck am I supposed to know what’s going on in there!?”. I figured it would be like that for 9 months. Maternal instinct=I no has it. Or so I thought.
As time went on, I started to get a clue. I never had a specific moment where it dawned on me, or a dream or anything like that… but as a preggy I’ve spent a lot of time daydreaming about life with baby and there’s always lots of images floating around in my brain. The image of a little bundle cradled in my arms, or of a little face peeking out of a crib, or plopping a little one into a car seat. And in all these scenes, baby was a boy.
I would always be drawn to the little boy clothes and the baby boy cards in the grocery store; I just increasingly began to think of my tummy as a masculine presence. Shh, I even bought a little pair of baby madras shorts long before we knew! I would look at little girls and they just looked, I don’t know, foreign to me. DON’T GET ME WRONG. I love me some little girls. LOVE. And Jeff had been solidly instructed that even though I thought we had a little dude for #1, we were having a future she-baby even if it took 14 tries.
I also didn’t want to close the door on a girl because as we have thoroughly covered, I am a dingbat and would never put it past myself to be extremely incorrect about something. Also, I began entertaining the thought that what I might have on my hands was a very sneaky little girl. See, this is baby’s favorite game in the world right now:
1. Kick up a storm.
2. I call out, “Hey [Jeff/family member/whoever]! They’re kicking, come feel!”
3. A very excited person comes over and paws my tummy.
4. Baby stops kicking.
5. Person waits forever and feels very disappointed.
6. I say, “Aww. Nevermind. Sorry.”
7. Person leaves. I look dumb.
8. Baby immediately resumes kicking up a storm.
So sneaky! So I could definitely picture a girl baby having the ultimate laughing fit at my expense if I would have had to go back to everyone like an idiot and confess how wrong my instinct was. (Since when people asked I was always saying “Oh it’s a boy. I’m sure of it.”) Another point in the girl column was that I totally whored out my contact info to parents.com so I could take one of those goofy old wives tale quizzes. I know, I am like 15. Don’t judge. The old wives’ opinion was that I had a girl.
As for my preference, I mean what they say about not caring as long as they’re healthy. I was kidding about keeping at it until we had both genders represented. I really believe you are meant to have the kids you are meant to have, and it’s a decision that comes from way above the mortal pay grade. Also I hate to be a judgey judgerson, I know you are supposed to be across the board “supportive” or whatever, but the stories you hear about women having crying fits on the ultrasound table because they had a healthy baby of their unpreferred gender… they make me sick. I’m sorry. All the women and families out there who have lost pregnancies or lost children or who have struggling sick children, all the women struggling to conceive… get some perspective, people! Sorry.
Or as our nephew’s first grade class mantra goes: you get what you get and you don’t get upset. True dat, my friends.
And we couldn’t be happier or more excited about what we got. 🙂 Watch the video!