Sonogram Tag Archives

Oh, Boy!

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As I write this I think, perhaps, next time around, when we are asked whether or not we want to know baby’s gender, we’ll decline. Of course, it is incredible to be given a better picture of what your precious child will “be,” but in this, my first pregnancy, I was unprepared for just how confusing such news…or lack of news…would be.

At 19 weeks, just before taking holiday vacation up to Maine to be with my family, we went to our regular monthly check up with the OB/Midwife group practice. After hearing a healthy heart beat (thank goodness…) and receiving a positive bill of health for the month, the midwife asked us if we’d like to know baby’s gender. As we had already discussed and had decided that, yes, we did want to know as soon as we were able to know, we agreed. The midwife told us, after a moment of inspection, that we were 80% sure to be having a girl. At the news, I began laughing and nearly crying with joy. A girl! Of course, they say every mother secretly harbors the wish to have a girl, but I was surprised at just how elated I was at the news. Perhaps it was the news of a girl that made me so happy, or maybe was simply receiving, for the first time, a clear picture of how our future was forming, day by day, within my ever-growing tummy. Moreover, the news seemed to affirm everyone’s hunches that I was carrying a girl. Momentarily it felt that we–friends, family, even Joe and me–were clairvoyant and that the world isn’t such a mystery after all.

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The holidays finally came and when sharing the news with my family we were met with gleeful yips and giggles. “A Girl! Yay!” I too, felt giddy each time we shared the news. Giddy to be bringing another strong lady into the world, giddy that this girl would have an exceptional, patient, kind and brave father to listen to her and to love her. I always told Joe that I believed it took a very special man to be a good father to a girl and that I thought he was this kind of special man. He agreed that having a baby girl join us would be the perfect fit.

During vacation I started having some light symptoms of a typical, mild pregnancy side effect–i’ll spare the details–and decided to get it checked out at the local clinic just to make sure all was well. There at the clinic, where all turned out to be well, we received another sonogram prognosis of baby girl. It seemed a sure thing at this point and visions of brown curls, sun dresses and prom corsages began dancing through our heads as we started to call baby by the name we had chosen for her.

I was scheduled for my 20 week anatomy scan upon returning home to Brooklyn. Joe was back to school and couldn’t join me at the morning appointment which seemed inconsequential as we had just had two sonograms in very close succession where all looked fine with baby and we had an almost guarantee of the sex. As I laid back in the dimly lit room and let the technician begin scanning my tummy I was the most relaxed i’d been before any of the many appointments thus far in the pregnancy. I felt like I knew everything I needed to know, so I could let go and let this routine scan run its course. The technician asked if I’d like to know the sex of the baby and I told her that we’d already been informed that we were most likely having a girl. Five minutes and many scans later she asked, “Who told you that you were having a girl?” “Well, one midwife and one doctor,” I sputtered off almost too quickly and a bit indignantly, “Why, do you think otherwise?”

This spawned a series of technicians joining the first gal and having a look at the precious contents of my belly, no doubt to prove to themselves in someway that they were smarter than the doctors and midwives. “You’re definitely having a boy,” they all informed me in turn as though it was the most obvious thing they’d encountered that day. I wanted them to stop poking and prodding me and turning my world upside down. I wanted Joe to be there to help explain to them that they were wrong and that we were having a girl, or explain to me that they were right and we were actually having a boy. Nothing made sense in that moment and some small, guilty tears began to gather in the corners of my eyes…

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But, after all this–and a few days to adjust–I am coming around to the idea of having a boy. For all the ways that having a girl would make sense to me in an instinctive way, there are just as many ways that having a boy will make sense. For starters, without ever being considered “manly” I’ve often been considered “boy-like.” I love the outdoors, I can hardly sit still in body, let alone in mind and I have a penchant for mischief. In fact, save a few, blessed girls that I have cut my teeth alongside (all sporting their own scabby knees, home-pierced appendages and calloused, bare feet–you know who you are) I grew up amongst a band of boys whom I’ve equally loved, fought with and learned from. I’ve always adored the attention from boys and giving it in return. I’ve felt comforted by their more physical, straightforward ways of communicating. I’ve been challenged and invigorated by their stamina and their strength. Does this mean I think girls or women are any less interesting or less capable? Not in the least. But, it does mean that something in me has always identified with boys, and with those girls that also identified with the boys. Perhaps, for these reasons, having a boy of my own makes the most sense.

I began this post a week ago, and we have since had the second part of our anatomy scan. To the best of our knowledge, we are, in fact, having a boy. I can now see him clearly in my mind’s eye and look forward to our future adventures, and to how much he is going to love his mother. What will happen if baby actually does come out as a girl–which sometimes, though rarely, can happen–you may wonder. I guess knowing or not knowing matters little in love.

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