The odds were against us having a girl. Jonathan himself
comes from a family of 4 boys, and his paternal grandfather was one of 9. When
you flip a coin 9 times, and it comes out ‘heads’ every time, you start
thinking it might be a trick coin. And maybe because the statistics were
stacked against us ever having a daughter, we were both secretly cheering for
the underdog.
The night after the reveal party, when our friends and family
were gone, and Jonathan and I winded down from the excitement, I asked him, “Are
you happy it’s a boy”, and with all the sincerity in the world he said, “Yes, I
really am.” And when I followed up with the question, “Are you sad it’s not a
girl?”, he gave me the same answer. “Yes, I really am.”
It was honest and
ambivalent and captured my thoughts and feelings exactly. And I
would’ve felt the same inner conflict no matter what color balloons were revealed. I have no
clue how people go 9 months without finding out. I don’t think I could juggle
the thought of both a boy and girl in my head for that long and then have to
let go of one or the other. There has to be a significant amount of grief in
letting go of the imagined son or daughter that wasn’t ever yours.
Fortunately, our baby will be
born in a time where being a boy or a girl doesn’t solely determine the trajectory
of your life. We live in a day in age where gender isn’t so cut and dry. Little
boys can wear pink. Little girls can go fishing. Neither Jonathan or I are
hyper-masculine/feminine, but more well-rounded in terms of gender roles.
Maybe
because of this, I’m not the best parent to teach a little girl what it is to
be a woman. Afterall, I’ve struggled tremendously with domesticity and get
little pleasure out of cleaning house, cooking dinner, or hosting formal
parties. As a girl, I was more interested in wearing soccer shorts than
dresses, playing in the woods than playing with Barbies, listening to
Silverchair rather than N’Sync. Overall, I was much more snakes and snails and puppy dog tails than I ever was sugar and spice and everything nice.
My sister was the same way, and in her own way,
my mom grieved over girls who didn’t wear makeup, dance ballet, or own curling
irons. At the same time, my dad rejoiced
in daughters who excelled academically and athletically.
So if I birthed a girl who was all about
tea parties and tutus, I’d be at a loss. There’s a much greater chance that a
boy will forgo those hobbies and delight in the fact that I can teach him to
throw a perfect spiral and will gladly watch Harry Potter marathons with him.
So as I
grieve the daughter that was not to be, I look forward to raising a *son*. To
hopefully raise him to treat women with respect, to make responsible choices,
to always lean first on prayer and his relationship with Jesus, to cheer on the Tigers
in good times and bad, and to be a solid midfielder on the soccer field.
It
will be a great adventure, one that I hope my relationship with my father,
brother, husband, nephews, and my life as a tom-boy has helped to prepare me for. Unless
he turns out to be one of those boys that has an aptitude for ballet. Then I’m back to being clueless.
You're going to be a great mom, Laine:) I cannot wait to meet the little guy!
ReplyDeleteBoys are really fun! I don't even think I'd want a girl after this. Of course, I'd take one if that's what we had but I'm totally diggin' being a boy mom.
ReplyDeleteI was sad to not have a boy, but love having a girl. You expressed the duality of emotion so perfectly. You will raise one awesome little man. And you never know if God has a little sister in store for him one day :)
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