When I first found out I was pregnant, I KNEW, I mean I just KNEW it was a boy. After all, had not God been preparing me for a little boy all these years??
When I was little, I was surrounded by little girls and I guess I had grown tired of being around so many of them. I was not enamored with their clothing options; and the dramatics and girliness had become lost on me. Being around another female child was just run of the mill.
Then, my best friend’s mother had a little boy. It had been a LONG time since anyone had a little boy... and this one... this little boy was my heart. I cannot tell you how much I loved that child. At twelve years old, I was in love. I decided right then, that I wanted a baby. Not just a baby, but a little boy. (Now, granted, I wanted said baby to be EXACTLY like this little baby, but I wanted a baby nonetheless.) I loved everything about them! They had the cutest little clothes and shoes… their sweet little curls and haircuts… the adorable things they said… This little boy in particular called me his girlfriend for a while. (Apparently, if you play play-dough and let them play with your hair and give you a mustache, you are real-woman-of-their-dreams material.) Eventually, they go to kindergarten and find more interesting things than you and turning your hair into a mustache.
But it was okay, because right about that kindergarten time, my youngest aunt also had a little boy. In fact, he and his sister came and stayed with us for a while. I fell in love with that child too. Since my sister wasn’t really good with babies, he stayed in my room. Who knew such a tiny baby could hog up so much bed? Who knew that I would finally get over my fear of poop because of THE most horrendous diaper explosion at 2am??? (Note, I totally had to wake my parents up to take care of that one. I have never seen anything like that to this day. Just want to give credit where credit is due.) Who knew that poopy little bed hogs could steal your heart? I didn’t. But he did. From around that time, I became Bum-Bum. (Why Bum-Bum? Because during that time, when my sanity was slow, I would sing to him. I would sing the pink panther song.)
I could write for days on both of these boys, but let's move a little farther along in time… during school I always ended up observing and helping out in the k4 classrooms. Every. Single. Time. Do you realize how cute little boys are at 4 years old?? Do you realize how hard it is not to let your heart melt like butter when one of them comes up to you with a book, asks you to read it to him, and then plops his little hiney down in your lap (Like it's no biggie - I don't know you... but... okay.) and snuggles up for some story time?
Fast forward to 2011. I started working at a day care. I was over the toddler room in the afternoons. For 95% of my time at the day care, every single one of the children under my care, was male. Oh, and I would come in just as they were waking up from their naps. They would bring their passy’s, blankets, and sweaty little heads over to me and just crawl in my lap. All they wanted was just for me to hug and rock them for a few minutes. They knew that when I pulled the snacks out that I was going to kiss each one of them on the top of their sweet little heads and tell them that I loved them… And I meant it every day. We would play games like “Chase the invisible bug.” (Little boy giggles are the funniest.) And when they unexpectedly saw you... they would get so excited! They would run and tackle you like they hadn't seen you in a million years.
Now, I work in an office filled with men… with mostly men customers… and I will be the first to tell you that I love my job. I get the best treatment and men are refreshingly honest and blunt.
So of COURSE I would think that any child in my womb would be male! Why would someone like me, a person who loved little boys so much, and had so much experience working with little boys, have a little girl?? It seemed as if God has been lining me up for a lifetime of being around the male race…. Except that he wasn’t.
I was sitting at the table at 5AM one morning. I had just finished my Bible study, ("A Woman's Heart" by Beth Moore, in case you're wondering.) and I was writing a note to my baby… and it hit me. This child in my womb, was NOT in any way, shape, or form, male. This was a woman-child. Why? Because I wasn’t prepared for that. Because it wasn’t what I had planned. Because it wasn’t (what I thought) what I wanted. To be honest, I was a little disappointed. A girl was exactly what God was going to give me, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
I told Ben, and he thought I was nothing short of crazy. But considering the rush of hormones that had been going on, he made sure to tell me gently. He told me that there was no way for me to know that for sure. After all, I was only 7 weeks along.
I finally started dreaming about my baby. It was always genderless or a little blonde haired boy. Which REALLY confused me… I even had such wild thoughts as “Maybe it is a boy… maybe the increased testosterone would trigger me having dreams about having little boys… maybe that’s why I’ve suddenly become such an aggressive person… Maybe that’s why I’m growing a mustache thick enough to rival one of my great aunts…” Yeah, the ideas got a little out there.
But I had started thinking about having a girl just to be prepared for when the ultrasound technician told us what I felt like I already knew. We started talking names, and we picked a name we loved. I started planning how the nursery would look, just in case.
Two days before the ultrasound, I dreamed Ben and I were in the room and the tech gave us an envelope. We opened it and it said that it was a little boy. I was stunned. This couldn’t possibly be right. I KNEW it was a girl. I asked the lady if she was sure. She laughed at me and said yes. So, I asked her to check again. She did, and sure enough right there on the screen was the unmistakable evidence that my baby was a boy.
The next morning, I told Ben. I also told him I was confused… because I was a little disappointed... I had grown a little accustomed the idea of a girl... If it was a boy, I would love it to the moon and back… but I wouldn’t get to use the name that we had picked out... and someone could take our name before we got to use it! AND I would have to let go of this nursery plan that I had grown attached to... and start ALL over!
The day that we found out, I was nervous. I had a feeling that I wasn’t the only one that wanted a little girl now, but knew that even if it was a little boy, baby would be our world… We would love, love, love baby more than anything.
I'm still not crazy over some things about little girl world. Hello, what am I going to do when she becomes a teenager?? And have you seen some of the clothing options these days??? There's an awful lot of pretty-woman BEFORE she started hanging around Richard Gere. BUT I would be lying though if I didn’t tell you how excited Ben and I were in that room when they told us that it was a little girl. It would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that I may have had a few tears of happiness run down my face. I am so glad that God doesn’t always give us what we think we want… and that His dreams for us are so much better than our own. Because the dream I had never had, never wanted, and was deathly afraid of, was suddenly my dream come true.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see about some rather ginormous hair bows
