A boy. From the moment the ultrasound technician told us the news, I have been on a rollercoaster of sorts as I adjust to the reality of our future family. This is the part where I'm supposed to say that I was overjoyed and smitten from that very first moment we found out, but that's simply not so. As the wand moved across my belly, revealing grainy image after grainy image of our tiny wiggling child, the doctor, who stood behind the technician overseeing her work, suddenly looked at me and exclaimed "well he's certainly not shy!". And at the same moment that I saw the two little legs, two little feet, and one very obvious boy part on display, the word "he" registered with my brain, and my jaw dropped. I turned my head to Gaby, whose eyes were already welling up with tears of joy, and gasped "baby, its a boy!?"
Everyone, and I mean everyone, had told me that I was having a boy this time- all of my friends, my co-workers, strangers on the train, my boss, even those silly online quizzes- boy, boy, boy. Everyone except my sisters, who knew how much I was anticipating another girl, and were rooting for me. Having grown up in a family of three sisters, with a mother who came from a family of three sisters, I was sure that girls simply ran in my blood. Of course, I conveniently ignored my father's side, which is full of boys (my Grandma had four boys before having a girl, bless her!), as well as the actual fifty-fifty odds. I was sure, and nothing else mattered. I was looking forward to proving everyone wrong after the anatomy scan confirmed what I already "knew". My two girls would be wonderful sisters growing up in the city together, with just the same age gap as my little sister and I, and that was that.
But the universe had other plans. At first, I was in shock. The news of his good health was of course the most important thing, and brought with it calm and relief and gratitude. But the news of his gender had thrown me for such a loop that I honestly didn't know how to feel. I walked out of the office in a sort of daze, telling Biet with a smile that she was going to have a little brother, but at the same time seeing all of my visions of her sisterhood vanishing. The idea of a boy, which would soon be my reality, was simply so foreign.
I don't even know how to change a boy diaper, I thought to myself. And then came visions of pee everywhere, wrestling and breaking the house, toy guns and swords and fighting, broken bones, aggressive boy energy all. of. the. time... oh my. I just couldn't imagine it. I began asking friends with brothers what it had been like for them growing up. Most of them said it was unbelievable. I heard story after story of wonderful brother-sister adventures. And one day I realized that I needn't imagine what a boy's childhood would entail because I had, indeed, already been through it. My two sisters and I could wrestle the best of them. We knocked eachother around like you wouldn't believe. Fighting and breaking things and being loud and wild- that was our everyday, for better or worse. I don't know when I began to sugarcoat my sisterhood with them, but the truth is that we were rough. And we were wild. And we were adventuresome. Because that is childhood.
Biet and her brother will knock eachother around, I am sure. And they will also love eachother and mean more to one another than anyone else. This city will be their playground, and it will be glorious. I will learn how to change a boy diaper (I've been told to cover it with a little cloth as soon as you open the diaper, or else expect to be peed on every time), but the rest I know. I cherish being a mother, and am lucky enough to be able to do it again. I will nurture and raise an amazing little man who is half me and half Gaby, and for that I am not only thrilled, but honored. I can't wait to discover what he looks like, how he moves, what he sounds like... I wonder if he will get as much of Gaby in him as Biet did. Today, weeks after finding out, I can honestly say that I am smitten with this budding little life inside me. He will be amazing.
I felt the need to document this process, from surprise to shock to acceptance to excitement. It has been quite an emotional journey, but a necessary one. I feel this baby boy move in my belly every day, so strong and resilient, and I feel more connected to him than ever. I can see him in my arms, and it is the sweetest feeling in the world. I am truly falling head over heals for this babe. He is my son.
