"Do you want a boy or a girl?"

Long before I ever got pregnant (and possibly before I was married), I planned to have two kids. One boy, and one girl--in that order. The boy would be a protective older brother to whom his little sister would look up to, and she would be the sweet baby of the family whom her brother adored. Okay, so maybe that last part was just a bunch of nonsense (I have two brothers, and I know how siblings work...), but I really did want a boy and a girl. And, obviously, the boy is supposed to be older (every storybook and television show says so, right?!).

Then, I got pregnant. And, I assumed that I was having a girl. Why? I have no idea; it just never occurred to me that I might have a boy. For weeks on end, I thought about Baby Girl and everything that I'd do with her. I imagined fluffy pink dresses and flowered headbands, tea parties and baby dolls, ballet recitals and lipgloss. I scoured scored lists of baby names, and I came up with a list of about 25 girl names that I liked. When my husband mentioned that we might have a boy, I tossed about 3 boy names onto the list and subsequently ignored him.

As I approached the 20 week mark, I began to realize the sobering facts. Babies come in two genders, and I had a 50/50 shot of getting either one. And, I had no control over the matter (I like to be in control...). The more that I thought about it, the more I got nervous. Should we find out the sex? Should we wait? (We'd already told family that we were going to wait!) Eventually, the day before my big ultrasound, I told my husband that I absolutely did want to know the sex. I told him that it was because I wanted to decorate the nursery.....but really it was because I was scared that I'd get excited for Baby Girl, then be disappointed if Baby Boy popped out!

Before the tech started my ultrasound, she asked me if we wanted to know the sex. I said yes, and she told me that she'd wait until she was through with the measurements/important stuff, then she'd invite my husband into the room, and she'd reveal the sex to us together. Then, she slipped and referred to my baby as "he" while we talked. She covered it by admitting that she had a little boy, and often referred to all babies as "he" in utero. Since I knew in my heart that my baby was a girl, I believed her and didn't give it a second thought. Then, when the big moment came, my palms were sweating and my heart racing--and I heard the words, "...and, right there are his little boy parts!" I was stunned. I was not disappointed or mad, but I was shocked. When we got home, I looked closely at all of the pictures to make sure she hadn't been mistaken. She wasn't. Obvously, I had been. Weren't pregnant mommies supposed to have some sixth sense for baby gender?!
I tossed out my list of girl names and started thinking in blue. I think it took several days for it to really sink in that we were having a boy, and during that time, I felt terrible. Why was it that I'd been so convinced that we would have a girl? Did I not want a boy?! What kind of a mother would that make me? I thought about little boys and toy cars, little league and wrestling, superheroes and drumsets. And, suddenly, it hit me; I was scared to have a little boy! I was scared because I don't know about boy stuff! I know all about girls' toys and interests, but I don't have the faintest idea what boys {over the age of 4} like! Sure, I have two younger brothers, but I don't know what they did all afternoon in the backyard. All I know is that they came in for dinner covered in dirt and grime. And, they collected bugs.
"What if he goesn't like me because I'm a girl?" I asked my husband, one nervous evening.
"He'll like you. Little boys love their mommies, even when girls are yucky," he replied calmly. And, since he should know, I believed him. I remembered my "baby boy first" plan, and I began to get excited for our son, rather than "our baby."
We decided to keep the sex of the baby a secret from everyone else until he was born. And so, on a daily basis, I was asked, "Do you want a boy or a girl?" Throughout 9 months of pregnancy, I never found an answer to that question that I liked. If I answered with one gender, the inevitable comeback was, "What if you have {the other sex}?" Well, I'll love him/her anyway. But, is that the way that I want to talk about my baby? "Oh, yeah, I wanted a girl, but I guess I'll love you since you're what I got!" Sounds a bit harsh to me. But, as hypocritical as it might sound, I am glad that we found out the sex. Of course I would have loved Nathaniel from Day 1, whether I had known or not, but I think it might have taken a little longer for me to bond if I had expected a girl.

At first, I wasn't expecting a boy, but the more that I thought about it, the more I wanted him to be HIM! I got excited for football parties and matchbox cars, clip-on ties and baby blue, frogs and grass stained knees. I thought about little boys that I'd worked with, and I realized that the majority of my "favorites" had been boys. By the time that Nate was born, I would have been sorely disappointed to have a baby girl. Plus, she would have been wearing an awful lot of blue in 0-3 sizes!

My feelings about having a boy now? I love it! {Obviously.} I wouldn't trade my son for anything! Sure, frilly dresses are cute, but nothing beats my little man looking dapper in a tiny polo shirt and plaid shorts! I've overcome my fear of "little boy interests" because I've realized that this is my little boy! If he's all about dinosaurs and tee ball...well, I'll learn all about dinosaurs and tee ball too! (Who's to guarantee that imaginary Baby Girl wouldn't have been into dinosaurs and tee ball?!)

I know that having a son will teach me many things throughout the years, and I'll probably have to adapt more than once. But, lately, I've been thinking about how extra-glad I am to have a boy. We're in this big, scary world to raise our children to be men and women of God, and, while I have no concrete plans or promises, I suspect that boys are easier. Noisier and rowdier, and probably more mischevious--but less bombarded with destructive self-image issues by the world. Is it easier to be a boy? To raise one? I don't know; I was never a boy growing up, and I may be totally wrong. But, as a mother, I am glad to know that my baby will not face all of the issues that I faced in high school and college. And, while I'm sure he'll be confronted with others, we'll keep our fingers crossed that Eric knows what to do! =)
I know that raising a child is not easy, male or female. I don't plan to ignore challenges that arise because my child is a boy, nor do I expect a challenge-free childhood. And, since I still think that fluffy dresses are adorable and tea parties are fun, I would love to have a daughter someday. But, if God has a house full of boys in store for me, I'll be thrilled! {What could be better than a brother/best friend for Nate?!} On the other hand, if our little one is an only child forever, I think I'll be okay with that too. {He's already loved enough for twenty babies!} I love being a mommy to my baby boy, and I can't wait to find out what adventures I'll have as a mommy of a little boy!