It is not easy for me to write this because as a mother, a human being, a feminist, I truly believe in the equality (read: not sameness) of individuals and equality (read: not sameness) of genders. But I’ll say it because…I’m not sure why but it might be one of those therapy things where saying it out loud gives it less power? Or gives a chance for people on the internet to make you feel like an asshole? One of those.
I’m terrified of having a boy.
There I said it.
I’m not sure, for the record, whether I am having a boy. Just like last time, we decided not to find out the gender of our baby for various reasons, mostly to torture friends and family. But everyone in our lives is certain it’s a boy based on blurry ultrasound facial profiles and weight gain patterns and star alignment and tea leaves and such. Not one person has told me they think it’s a girl. And since I’m conditioned to be democratic, I am going with the majority rule.
*SIDENOTE OF GREAT IMPORTANCE: I am 100% sure I will love this baby no matter what the genital situation. If you put an animal with a beating heart in front of me I will basically knit it a sweater and let it sleep in my bed forever, so I have no particular concerns that a penis-having baby would be any less special to me than our non-penis having child. Because of this it’s not necessary to reassure me by telling me how special your mother/father-son relationship is (of course it is!) and how much sweeter he is than your daughter (rude!) and how the teenage years will be easier (it’s all relative!) and blah blah something. I get that it will be fine, I know everyoneloves their song, I am just working on battling my own irrational stereotypes.
When I sit down to meditate on this to the sound of wind chimes and monks chan
ting, I realize that for the very most part I am not worried at all about having a son. I’m worried about NOT having a daughter, which sounds like semantics but isn’t. I feel excited about the new life coming no matter who he/she is and what he/she likes, but I feel concerned about V living a life without a sister. Because like…how do you even do that? I know it’s done on the daily but…are those people ok!? I’m worried.
A smaller part of this fear is simply the unknown. I have a sister. And a daughter. And I navigate the world of women. Last night Dave and I lay in bed talking about this.
him: What exactly is your concern?
me: It’s so irrational. It’s so stereotypical. I’m embarrassed to even discuss it.
him: Tell me anyway.
me: I’m afraid he won’t love me as much. Won’t stay close with us. Won’t be close with V.
him: Think of how close I am with my mom! And both my sisters! Why wouldn’t our son be like that?
me: Well that’s true…but you don’t call your mom enough! I can tell you that much! He better call me more than that!
him: Ok how about this? We never ever ever let him leave. :::sarcasm:::
me: ….Ok good idea… :::dead serious:::
A few days ago I was talking to my inspiring and loving and caring friend Mary, mother to Lucy and Peter. She is the kind of mother-friend to whom I can tell all my dark mother feelings and after I spill it all in a breathless confession of shame and guilt she goes “Oh yes TOTALLY. And I can one up that with a slightly DARKER confession.” It’s amazing. If you don’t have a friend like this find one immediately or I can pass on Mary’s number. I was explaining this fear to her, knowing she would literally get it since her first was a daughter and her second was a son and also she likes to ponder her thoughts to the sound of wind chimes as I do. Nothing could have made me feel better than Mary’s words.
“I was the same when I was pregnant the second time because I knew what to do with a girl and then along came Peter and he had poop on his balls and I was like what the H is this?!” TOTALLY. I mean aside from all this really intangible stuff, at the end of the day there are testicles to be dealt with in the bright light of day and I’m not sure I am ready for that.
And finally, the most reassuring sentence that a motha in her position could say to a motha in mine. “Whatever you have, they will love each other and compliment each other and then punch each other.” Should we write this on a mug and sell it?