My body grew a boy and I have forgiven it

For as long as I have been conscious of the fact that I could one day reproduce, I assumed I'd have a girl one day. I'm a girl. I have a sister. My extended family is full of girls. I understand girls. I like girls. Girls are made of sugar and spice. Spice Girls. Girls are from Venus.

Girls, girls, girls.

I wanted a mini Krista. Obviously we need more of... me? (Shhh, just nod).

This is exactly why I am currently incubating a baby boy. 


Is this where I apologize for calling most little boys terrors? Disclaimer: this does not include very specific little boys in my life whom have been lovingly grandfathered into my Boys Are Okay safe space. You know who you are. 

But the most surprising news of all: I'm not even mad. Well, obviously. But really. 

I never had that special mom "intuition" that I was having a boy. There was no secret feeling. But I've spent the last several months simply knowing life would give me a boy because of course it would. 

Today, as the doctor was preparing his ultrasound tools and the goop was gooped all over my belly, we let him know we definitely wanted to know whether we were having a boy or girl.

"But you better say girl," I joked. I wasn't joking. I laughed anyway.

Within seconds, as I stared at what looked like aliens from outer space on a monitor, the doctor piped up, amused: 

"So you don't want me to tell you it's a boy, huh?"

NOPE. Nope, nope, nope.

And then...

"Well, it's a boy."

WITHIN SECONDS. I actually squealed, partially amused, partially shocked, partially ecstatic to finally know. A BOY. 

I asked how he could POSSIBLY have figured that out so fast. All I could see on the screen was peculiar blobs and shadows. He promptly zeroed in on baby's first penis shot, and sure enough, WE MADE A BOY. 

Look, I'll be honest. I expected to feel even a twinge of ... not so much disappointment as, well, mourning? ... but I didn't. I was staring at a screen at my baby. The baby we created. He (he! we can say he now!) was so big! And developed! He had tiny arms and legs! And his TOES. His spine. His fluttering heart. His baby butt and BABY NOSE. He is growing inside my body. 

Todd, of course, is thrilled. He, naturally, had no preference because he is good and kind. Never mind that myself and his daughter were ALL OVER wanting to add a girl to our club. We have not been quiet about this. But I GUESS this will do. 

And I guess we'll have to keep trying until we get a girl, too?



I digress.

During the exam we both stared wide-eyed as the doctor continued to inspect and make notes on the screen. I squeezed Todd's hand so tight I probably lost blood supply to the entire left side of my body. One by one, all his valuable pieces were cleared. Strong heart, good lungs, perfect hands, feet, arms, and legs. His brain was great. His spine was a spine. Placenta is in place. Fluids are adequate.

My body is doing a good job, and I've honestly never been more proud of it. My body has done many incredible things, but this takes the cake. Hands down. 

Good job, body.

When the doctor was done scoping out the goods inside my uterus, he sat down to discuss what he found. Because I'm 35, there are additional risk factors. But as he went down the list of possibilities and cross-referenced them with what he saw, he assured us we've crafted a pretty damn good and healthy baby. A baby boy. 


The relief and calm I now feel is immense. I don't think I realized just how nervous I was about what we'd discover today. I'm so, so damn proud of my body for doing this one amazing thing for us. I want to reward this accomplishment with cake.

And Flamin' Hot Cheetos.

To see our baby in there, though! His face! Of course we were given the 100 percent creepy 3D image of his face, and sure the image itself is sort of alien and bizarre, but you guys, THERE IS A DISTINCT LITTLE PERSON IN THERE AND HE IS CUTE AND LOOK WHAT A GOOD JOB WE DID. There is a little mouth and a little nose, and I can't imagine the little personality that will show up once he's here. 


And suddenly, knowing I am growing the tiniest of little boys is thrilling to me. I know who is in there. I know his name! I get to be his mama. I can guide him to be kind and strong and fight the good fight. I want him to understand empathy and love, responsibility and respect. Sure, he's being born into a terribly troubled America, but he'll know goodness and be an ally for his mama and his sister, and for all the women who love him already.

We get to do these things for him. We made a little person. We get to help him become a bigger person. 

We have a son. 

Holy shit.

We love you, baby boy. Thank you for showing up.

P.S. Mama already bought you a WubbaNub, so we're basically 100 percent prepared for your arrival in 20 weeks. WE'VE GOT IT COVERED.