Boys vs. Girls

The whole week leading up to the ultrasound, I was being bombarded by the thoughts, "I can't have boys . . . I don't get boys . . . I'm a 'girls' kinda person, I grew up around all these sisters, and now my own girls . . ." I'd see boys in the store, neighbor boys, Annie's male friends, and watch them do things, well, just differently than my own girls and think, "That is not my world, I wouldn't know how to handle that . . ." (It was also just an unusual week where I saw a lot of 'naughty' little boys acting up, even in ways unusual for them. Little boys were starting to scare the crap out of me . . . what odd, destructive little creatures!) So, of course, we go in for the ultrasound and within 15 seconds are told, "Well, it's a boy!" And I was a little shocked. I hadn't realized just how convinced I was it was a girl until that second. I hadn't seen what the tech had seen, and she'd already moved on to doing head measurements and the like. I couldn't quite process how I was feeling, and part of me was thinking, "The tech must've not seen it right . . ." so I went on watching the ultrasound, just waiting for her to get a second look and tell me, "Oh wait, it's a girl." But within just a few seconds, we saw a little baby face on screen, and I smiled and thought, "Oh, he's gorgeous." We saw his tiny feet (kicking away like my bladder like it was a soccer ball) and I thought, "Oh, look at his little feet!" I melted at the sight of him. Even before we got to the 'gender shot' part of the ultrasound, the visual proof I'd been waiting for, I had a son. And I couldn't imagine anyone in his place.

So, I'm going to get to raise a boy! A son, who'll grow into a man. (Who'll get married and move away and replace me in his life . . . but that's getting ahead of myself!) :-) And my husband, who is the greatest example of a man that I've ever known (kind, strong, sweet, hardworking, smart, tender, compassionate, understanding, supportive, funny and wonderful) is exactly the kind of man who should be raising the next generation of men. It's gonna be different, but it's gonna be amazing! He is the addition to our family we've been planning on, preparing for, even if we hadn't realized it yet. And he's gonna fit in perfectly.

As I've been processing this whole 'change' in our life coming up, I've realized where part of my 'hang up' about having boys has come from. It wasn't really the whole 'they're wilder, or have more energy or are more destructive' thing like I thought it was. It's about expectations. And the expectations that we (mainly Greg) should or would want a boy more than 'another' girl. I've found myself defensive of my daughters, only wanting another daughter, in response to the comments I've gotten about how 'disappointing it would be' if we had another girl. Since our big 'it's a boy' announcement, I've received emails and comments and phone calls, some dripping with 'relief' for Greg, that he's finally getting his son. (Greg, even more so than me, was convinced it was another girl. That we'd only have girls. And he was fine with that. He loves his little girls, and could happily picture a house filled with pink purses, and baby dolls, and makeup, and be perfectly happy with that.) Upon receiving our latest news, one of my grandmothers cried and cried tears of happiness . . . not that we were pregnant, but that we would be having a son. It was 'about time.' And 'Oh, lucky Greg!' And 'Greg must be so thrilled! He'll finally have a son!' Ever since we found out we were first pregnant with a girl, with Annie, we received near-condolences. Like, "Oh, how's Greg taking the news?" "Is Greg OK with that?" Um, that's he's having a healthy, beautiful, daughter . . . he's fine with it, thanks. So, for this pregnancy, I think even wanting a boy made me feel mildly traitorous . . . almost to spite those who 'wished us better luck next time', I only wanted girls. Now, of course, I can't imagine having any family different than the one God blessed me with, but I have to tell you, this whole 'gender' thing leaves me feeling kinda defensive at times. I try not to but at times have found myself a bit resentful of those comments about 'finally having a boy' or stress the importance of passing on a family name, or place extra importance on a 'first born son or grandson'. And I know people don't mean anything by it. (And frankly, it's mainly old people.) I know for many of these people, it comes from a place of their own love and affection for their own sons, and they're just thrilled for us that we'll be able to experience raising a son too. And we're excited for that too. But it just kinda hurts, somewhere deep down, that maybe these people didn't see our girls as 'enough,' or that there would be something more special about them if they were 'sons'.

But, I'm so happy right now. Despite all my fears about it being a boy, now that we know that's the case, I can't imagine life being any different. I'm going to get to raise a son. And he, along with his sisters, will turn out amazing!

And, just edited to add: The comments that have affected me have NOT been the congratulatory, "We're so excited for you! I love having a little boy!" or "There's nothing like a little boy!" or "Just wait, there's something so special about being a Mom to a son!" These comments make me excited for a baby boy of my own. It's completely the "You must be relieved" or "He'll be the first grandson" (on my side, that ship sailed three years ago on Greg's side) or "Greg's waited so long" or "I bet you were praying for this every night" or "Greg must be so excited for a son" kinda comments. The, 'this is way better than the alternative, i.e. another girl,' kinda comments.
Oh, and pregnancy hormones play a part in this, obviously :-)