Thank you everyone for your nice words and congratulations on my big news and the big reveal. And thank you for continuing to read my blog despite it somehow turning into a pregnancy blog even thought I said I wouldn’t make it one.
While I am thrilled about this pregnancy (even with all of its quirks and craziness) – I have a confession to make. I thought about whether I should blog about this or not because I am going to come off as a big ol’ ungrateful turd. However, I try to be as honest as possible about my thoughts on this blog and if I can talk incessantly about farting – I shouldn’t hold this back either.
After the big reveal about bambino – I was really disappointed. You read that correctly. Disappointed. I wanted a boy. I want a boy.
I had my little guy’s name picked out. I had visions of my life with my little boy and upon reading the news on Friday – I thought, “this has to be a mistake.”
And then I felt like an instant asshole and terrible person for not jumping up and down for joy over the news. So I figured maybe I just needed the news to sink in for a few days. But a few days have passed and I am still feeling a bit sad about it.
Saturday and Sunday were terrible. I was sad the entire weekend and even claimed at one point to Jeremy that I felt completely disconnected to the baby inside of me. She wasn’t what I had dreamed about. She wasn’t what I had intended. She wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted a boy.
I shared these feelings with some friends and they all said the same thing:
Think of all the cute clothes you can buy!
My brother even said, “how lucky!” When I asked how I was lucky, he said, “You’ll be able to relate to your child now.”
So what do I have against girls? Obviously girls aren’t bad. I am one. My mother is one. Without girls – we wouldn’t have mothers. I understand all of that. My problem is that girls turn into little shits when they hit their preteen and teen years. How do I know this? I WAS ONE.
I was a nightmare during my teen years. I was horrible. I stayed pretty horrific until my early 20’s. I don’t want to give birth to another me.
Jeremy’s sister also admits to being a complete nightmare during these years.
This means horrible-ness in girls is in my baby’s DNA!
According to my brother, knowing the shit I was up to when I was a teen, I should be able to stop it all in my child. But can I? As a teen – I was pretty unstoppable.
My brother also pointed out that boys on my side of the family are quite the nightmare too (and I don’t disagree – my brother was and is still considered quite scary). The men on Jeremy’s side (well at least him and his dad) are amazing. They’re thoughtful and polite. They’re smart. They’re loving. So I had a good shot at having a good son.
But now a daughter? My world has been turned upside down. And all the while – I feel an immense amount of guilt about it.
Saturday, I was in DC all day with a friend helping out another friend. She was pointing out all the cute little girls and their cute little dresses. And really – little girls’ clothing is so much cuter.
While I started to warm up just a tad – I was still feeling bummed. I don’t want an overly pink room. I don’t want my daughter in head to toe pink all the time (Jeremy pointed out that it was nearly impossible to locate an “I Love Mommy” girl’s outfit that wasn’t pink). But then yesterday I saw this and I nearly cried:
So – the idea of having a daughter is growing on me. I have been envisioning a mini-me that is a musical genius (mainly a piano prodigy) but also an athlete (that part will be Jeremy’s influence). My daughter will grow up to be a doctor that cures cancer and Alzheimer’s (both things that plague my family). So obviously – we need to find a great name.
Picking a name is an entirely different issue because holy hell – there are SO MANY great names to choose from!