Then plan was to not find out. To go team green all the way to the end.
But now that we know, I want to shout it out for the whole world to hear.
Before I do, I need to reflect on getting to this point of acceptance. Because that’s how it feels to me, like I have accepted this challenge. My new role as a mother, a parent, a caregiver, a nurturer, a source of comfort, information, a safe haven…
For the past 20 weeks I have been meandering through life as my body makes subtle, and not so subtle, changes. The ickyness of the first trimester feels like eons ago. I’ve been relatively laid back, calm, collected. Overall, not too concerned about an event that feels like years away, even though in the back of my head I know it will be here in no time.
I expected to feel some movement from the inside by this point, but thanks to an anterior placenta I’ll probably have to wait another week or two before I can confirm that was indeed a kick. But not to fret, I realize there are scientific explanations for everything so I haven’t worried.
Before even learning I was pregnant, I decided that I wanted my first child to be a boy. Mostly for Ev’s sake, since he has always been outnumbered and still is in our household. I’ve heard people say that boys are easier than girls, and for a minute I thought there was some truth to it. But that’s kind of silly. Kids are kids and yes, while there are differences between boys and girls there’s no predicting what our child will be like.
I think I was scared at the prospect of raising a girl. Especially one born right around the same time I was. I kept thinking, if this child is anything like me, what will I do? I was introverted yet rambunctious, an only child who was spoiled early on and rather unsatisfied as I grew older. I had friends but I was lonely. I was stubborn yet unmotivated at times. Confused and left up to my own devices in many aspects of my life. I dealt with body issues, boy issues, depression, anxiety. But I became a mindful and very capable adult.
The idea of raising a child, boy or girl, does feel overwhelming. Knowing that I need to be there, even when it gets hard, helps me realize that this is my ultimate challenge. I’m going to be available to this child in ways that others in my life never were and never could have been. And will this child be anything like me? Maybe not. They’ll probably be completely different.
Which is why we said, up until yesterday, that it doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or girl. All we can ask for is a happy, healthy baby with ten fingers and ten toes and a strong heart.
That’s exactly what we have.
It’s a girl… and she’s happy to see ya.