Gender Bender
Monday, July 27, 2009
July 24
I have a hard time saying out loud what I think you are. Everyone wants to know what my gut reaction is, what I feel deep inside. I know what I feel deep inside but voicing it out loud seems sinful for some unknown reason. What if I'm wrong? Will it seem that the sex I believed you to be was the sex I was secretly hoping for? Would I look ungrateful for the child I received? Would you always wonder if I really wanted you to be something other then what you are? So I just tell everyone that I have no idea what you are. And I'm always satisfied with that answer because truthfully it doesn't matter one ounce what sex you are. All that matters is that you are my baby. And that is all I have ever wanted.
I will admit that there are some very mixed up messages being sent to me from some cosmic unknown place that keeps me guessing. I had a dream more then four years ago now, of Kevin coming home from work. I greeted him in the living room and while we talked about our days a small girl around the age of five came running out from behind us excitedly shouting "Daddy" as she wrapped her little body around his left leg and held on tight. Kevin patted her head lovingly and rested his hand on her shoulder as we continued our conversation and the little girl continued to hang on contentedly with a giant grin on her little oval face. She was beautiful. Long blond wavy hair that was parted in the middle and wrapped in pigtails at the sides of her head, soft pink lips, pale powdery skin, and vibrant blue eyes. I knew instantly that this was our daughter. It was a short and very detailed dream, the kind that you remember the instant you wake up and no matter how many years pass you by you still remember it vividly. At the time I received this dream your father and I were hardly dating. We were in the denial stage of our relationship. But that dream really forced my mind in to perspective.
Since becoming pregnant with you I've had at least six or seven other dreams about you being a little girl. And non-coincidentally every time I have one of these dreams I just happened to have had a day of discussion with someone about what sex I think you must be. Are you trying to tell me something?
On the other hand when I was pregnant the first time I was absolutely positive I was having a girl. There was no doubt in my mind. None. With this pregnancy I habitually call you "he" all the time. If I need to describe something you did that day I'll say "I learned today as I passed the Stereo, that Kevin cranked up, that HE (as I point at my belly) doesn't like loud noises". Your father always notices when I call you he. He's made it pretty clear that he would love to have a boy. He thinks that his boy will be someone he can play baseball, road hockey, and watch all the dull sports on TV with, because I have no desire to do any. I always laugh at this notion because something tells me his boy will be the shy, quiet, and artistic nature hunter... and it will be his little girl who will be the tough, baseball hat tilted to the side, messy faced, bandaids on her knees, waiting on the front porch with a glove in one hand, ball in the other, waiting on the front porch to pitch her father out of a makeshift game of ball. Both of those children sound beyond perfect to the both of us. But every man wants a little boy, because they secretly fear how in love they will fall with their little girl and how terrifying it will be to see boys fall in love with her too. For some reason they don't fear for their little man and all the girls that will fall in love with him. I guess boys can handle the love sick girls. But little does he know that his daughter will be the one that all the boys should fear.
So like I said, I have mixed messages. My dreams are rarely wrong. In fact I don't ever remember them not being right. SO much so that when I have an undesirable dream it plagues me that it could be true to the point where I find myself begging for it to be wrong. But then my gut reaction was to call you "He" right from the beginning. It remains a mystery. Plenty of insightful strangers seem to think you are a boy. Apparently I'm carrying all out front and nothing but belly which makes you a boy. I however happen to know that I am also carrying in the but, thighs and arms. So does that factor in? Who knows. How on earth anyone is supposed to tell the sex of a child by how big it's mother's tummy is seems a little off the wall to me. We'll all find out soon enough and it will be the best surprise any of us have ever had.
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