When you hear what I’m about to talk about, your reaction might be, “Wow. Harsh.” I quote Jay-Z, mostly in jest. The truth of the matter is, I REALLY wanted my baby to be a boy.
I’ve said before that I go through phases of journaling like crazy. I kept every one, and sometimes read them to see what I was thinking and feeling, and to see how things have changed in my life. I came across a journal from early 2008 recently and started reading. In between the regular work complaints and random gig stories I found something very interesting. I was writing about the possibility of kids and said, “I can really see myself with a little boy.” This was before my dear nephew came into the world in October of 2008, who solidified that feeling for me. But there it was on paper… one of those things you write down that even surprises yourself.
When we found out I was pregnant, my husband and I were in total agreement- we wanted a boy. The more we talked about it, the more scared I got that it wasn’t a boy. While we had a name picked out for a boy, I couldn’t even think of one for a girl. Nothing was jumping out at me. I already felt guilty for thinking things like, “What if it’s a girl??” as if that was some sort of death sentence! I REALLY wanted a boy. And let me say, it’s not that I’m against girls, I just didn’t want to have one first.
I had to do a little self investigation as to why I felt so strongly about it. I suppose mostly it has to do with the fact that that is how I was raised. In my family, it’s boy, girl, boy, girl. In my extended family, my dad is one of 12. Their family started off with a boy, who sadly passed away at the age of 5. Of the remaining 11, 8 of them had boys first. Maybe it’s just a family thing? Or could it be that growing up with an older brother and best friends who were boys set a precedent of comfort around males for me, never truly feeling like one of the girls. While I rebelled in middle school and tried to turn around the tomboy thing by hanging out with chicks and going to mall and whatnot, I definitely fell back into the comfort zone of hanging with the guys, where there seemed to be no pressure. There was less drama (ok a LITTLE less drama) but at least I understood it. This spilled over into my adult life- I’ve been in many bands over the last 20 years and have mostly been the only girl within 100 feet. Hanging with the guys is a part of life and I’m glad my husband is understanding of that. Not many men are.
Now it’s not to say I haven’t had or don’t have girlfriends. Funny- many were younger sisters themselves, and it was as if we had a sacred bond that only little sisters can understand. The Little Sisters of Brothers Club. We didn’t have to explain much to each other to be understood, it was already there. The sisters with younger brothers had an understanding as well. Interestingly, the friends who most fascinated me were the all-girl families. I loved visiting their boy-free houses, as if it was some sort of scientific reconnaissance mission. These homes had a completely different feel and outlook. Strange things were afoot. We could play/dance/act/sing freely without having to lock some boy out of the room. A tease-free environment- a totally different way of life. They were fun places to visit, but home is where the teasing is. I think it was a learning experience for all involved. I remember teaching my girlfriend how to spit, while she taught me how to put on mascara.
But back to the story at hand. The time came for the big sonogram- the one where you find out the sex. We weren’t going to find out, but at the last minute, we just had to. I couldn’t not know. Once the sonogram tech said she could tell us 10 seconds into the procedure, my husband said, “It’s got to be a boy, because that was awfully quick.” She said, “I don’t know.. I’m good!” We decided right then and there to confirm, and there it was…. “It’s a boy!” she said, and I heard myself rejoice, “THANK GOD!!” haha… how’s that for a reaction?
So, like in Go Fish, “I got what I wanted.” I was so much more relieved about EVERYTHING just knowing.
Now that people are starting to ask me if I know what I’m having, I say, “It’s a boy.” I’ve had a lot of mixed reactions. Some people are genuinely happy, but most people assume I wanted a girl, which is so funny to me. They ask apprehensively, “Is that what you wanted?” Or a disappointed, “Ohhhh.” I laugh and say either, “It’s ok… I wanted a boy!” or, in more relaxed situations, you know, the Jay-Z line- “I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one.”